


Fill My Little World Right Up

by stardust009



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust009/pseuds/stardust009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos asks Aramis to a concert, at first Aramis is confused that he hasn't asked the others but shrugs it off. Athos then invites him out riding and takes him to a poetry reading. Aramis assumes Athos just wants company and the others aren't interested. Athos even treats him to gifts and fine clothes so he can go to these fancy events.</p><p>Aramis starts enjoying these moments alone with their normally aloof Athos, pleased that Athos is finally allowing himself to live now that Milady is out of his life. However, as Porthos soon points out, if Aramis was a woman then what Athos was doing would be considered courting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Set after season one]

Aramis was in a sulk and, despite a valiant effort from Porthos the night before, Aramis had decided that he would not stop sulking. So, determining that his usual smile and greeting would take too much effort, he just plonked himself on the bench with his two friends, refusing to even touch any food because his mood was too dire to contemplate eating.

From behind his frown he spotted Porthos rolling his eyes at d’Artagnan. That made him feel worse. Even Porthos had given up with him and Aramis didn’t much like the eye-roll either. Fine, he would ignore both of them all day. He was entitled to sulk. That sword had seen him through many battles and fine victories. That sword had saved the King and Queen on more than one occasion. He loved that sword and to have watched it snap in half right in front of his eyes was utterly depressing.

“You can’t still be upset about your sword, surely?” d’Artagnan asked from beside him on the bench. Aramis decided to not even dignify that question with a response, he just folded his arms on top of the table and rested his chin down. If d’Artagnan had been in as many battles as he had he’d understand how you could become attached to a sword. “I could go and get you another one from the armoury?”

Aramis sat up and gasped in shock at the utter lack of understanding from their youngest recruit. “A sword from the armoury?” he spluttered, glancing over at Porthos was flinching, perhaps because he knew what was coming. “That sword was made by the finest swordsmith in Paris, paid for from the prize money of my first ever shooting competition. That sword was made exactly the weight and length to suit my style. That sword had a handle so unique that no-one else in France has one to match. With that sword I bested many fine opponents in the name of war and it saved my life more times than I care to remember. That sword has saved your life on many occasions as well for which you should be more grateful. That sword was….beautiful.”

He finished his speech with a heavy sigh. D’Artagnan, thankfully, decided not to say anymore. It was only when Porthos suddenly looked over their shoulders that Aramis turned to see what had caught his eye. He spotted Athos walking towards them carrying a parcel with brown wrapping. He looked like whatever he was carrying was precious, like a baby. Only Aramis knew from experience that Athos was quite terrified of babies. Athos walked right over to them and stood in front of Aramis.

“I have a present for you. If it doesn’t…suit then I can return it.”

Aramis felt confused. Why would Athos buy him a present? Still, he stood slowly and took the parcel off Athos, holding it as carefully as Athos had. Then he pulled back the paper, unwrapping the gift. It didn’t take him long to realise what it was. The shiny new metal twinkled under the sun, the blade so sharp that it looked as though it would slice through anything.

“I went to that swordsmith you’re always talking about and he said that he had made something special a couple of weeks before and produced this. I know it’s not your old sword but…well…”

Aramis gasped and wrapped his fingers around the handle. The elegant twists of metal on the knuckle guard were something which he suspected the King would happily display in his palace. There was even a silver cross marked into the blue leather which wrapped around the grip and the weight of the sword was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.

“Athos, I don’t…” Aramis allowed a smile to tug at his lips. He couldn’t deny the fact that he loved the sword. “…I don’t know what to say.” He looked at his friend. Athos looked almost embarrassed and he was avoiding eye-contact at all cost, like he usually did when emotions were involved.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just hope you like it,” he muttered to the ground.

“Like it? I love it!” Aramis said and stepped away from the bench to swing it around, testing it out.

“Then perhaps we could train together this afternoon, so you can see if it works for you?” Athos asked as he moved away, walking around the table to join Porthos on the bench for lunch.

“Yes,” Aramis said, still quite overwhelmed at the gesture. Even more overwhelmed at the fact Athos had made such a fine choice. He didn’t think that he’d be able to find a sword that was as beautiful as his first for a long time, if ever. Yet Athos had managed it in one morning. He could only imagine how much it must have cost. “I’d like that very much. Thank you, Athos.” He felt like saying thanks wasn’t enough but it was all he could do. He suspected that Athos wouldn’t appreciate a hug.

He was suddenly able to eat again and he scoffed some food down to give him the energy for the practice. In fact he ate so fast that he almost choked on some bread. D’Artagnan had to give him a thump on the back to dislodge it.

Upon discovering that Aramis was still alive Athos got up and suggested that they start. Aramis noticed that d’Artagnan looked a little put out as they all rose from the benches. He was used to going off and training with Athos. Porthos obviously saw the pout as well and put his hand on the young man’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry. Athos still loves you best of all.”

D’Artagnan immediately frowned and brushed Porthos’ hand off which made the big man chuckle. Athos was ignoring it all, he took off the rest of his weapons and walked across to the dirt and pulled out his own sword as he waited for Aramis to join him.

Despite the fact that Athos was holding back a little to allow Aramis to get a few swings in to test out his sword he didn’t let Aramis win. He never let Aramis win. Aramis didn’t mind, he was too in love with his new sword to mind. Once he’d been beaten for the third time he looked down at the blade with a smile. Athos came over.

“Aramis…” he said, getting Aramis’ attention. Aramis drew his gaze away from his sword and looked at Athos.

Athos had puffed his chest out like he was about to say something important but nothing seemed to happen. Aramis raised a curious eyebrow but then looked back at his sword, sliding it carefully into his old scabbard. It fit the scabbard perfectly.

“Tomorrow evening I was planning to attend a music event,” finally came the words from Athos. “I believe there will be a choir singing the likes of Cristobal de Morales and Cipriano de Rore. I was hoping you might like to join me?” The abruptness at which it all tumbled out of Athos’ mouth made Aramis a little lost for words so he paused as he let it all sink in.

It was a surprising offer. One which was certainly a first. Nevertheless, the fact that Athos was now getting back out into the world Aramis considered nothing but a truly remarkable sign of how confronting his ex-wife had done wonders for his healing. Yet, perhaps, there was still an air of nervousness about partaking in his own interests once again was why he needed the emotional support of a brother. Aramis was always happy to help and he did indeed love choirs.

“I’d like that very much,” he said with a smile.

“Wonderful,” Athos said and then turned and walked off to watch the other two who were still duelling. He could already hear shouts of frustrations coming from d’Artagnan at Porthos’ less than gentlemanly tactics.

However, it was only an hour before the music recital that Aramis discovered a slight problem. He spent his life in his uniform. He owned nothing else that was smart apart from a moth-eaten suit which he hadn’t worn in a long time. He suddenly felt embarrassed. Would Athos turn up in his uniform? Would people look at a soldier unkindly in such an environment?

To amplify his nervousness when he opened the door still wearing his uniform he discovered Athos dressed up and looking very handsome. He’d never seen Athos dress like an aristocrat before. He stood before Aramis elegant in a blue doublet and padded over-shirt; on his lower body dark blue hose and breeches. A cloak draped over one shoulder gave Athos an air of sophistication

Athos certainly wasn’t wearing his uniform, he looked like a true gentleman. Aramis suddenly felt completely underdressed as he stood there.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything to wear. You should go without me,” Aramis said as he stood at the door. He felt disappointed, truly. He had been looking forward to their evening out but he didn’t want to draw unwanted attention.

“You look very pleasant,” Athos blurted out and then suddenly appeared embarrassed by his own words, looking past Aramis’ shoulder and then down at the floor.

Aramis smiled at the compliment but it did nothing to qualm his uncertainty. “I can’t go in my uniform.”

“Nonsense,” Athos said, finally looking at Aramis again, a sense of honesty in his voice. “You will make men jealous and women blush. Anyway, you like people staring at you.”

Aramis opened his mouth to protest but then laughed. Athos had a point there.

“Should I change back into my uniform?” Athos asked. “Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

“No,” Aramis said immediately and tutted. “Then we’ll be late. You’re right, I do like people staring.” He let go of the door to fetch his hat and then he left with Athos, walking side-by-side through the streets towards the concert hall. Aramis was surprised that Athos was actually talking in a casual friendly manner. Quite an unusual occurrence.

“I was debating about getting a carriage but I then I thought that perhaps a walk would be enjoyable.”

“Walking is fine,” Aramis said with a chuckle. “I don’t recall us ever taking a carriage to a social engagement before.”

“I know,” Athos said and then stared down at the ground as he walked, hands behind his back. “I’m pleased that you don’t mind the walk. Are you looking forward to hearing the choir?”

“Yes,” Aramis said with a smile. He understood why Athos had asked him and not the other two. Porthos hated anything which was too ‘posh’ and d’Artagnan only liked music which he could dance to. Still, it was strange going out for an evening with Athos alone. In truth Aramis quite enjoyed having the full attention of their unofficial leader.

Once they were at the music hall Aramis did feel a little out-of-place amongst the high class of Paris society but no-one appeared to be paying him much attention…sadly. They were ushered into the hall and guided to their seats just minutes before the candles were put out around the auditorium and a grand choir of men and women glided onto the stage.

Aramis watched in awe. As soon as they started singing Aramis felt the hairs in his arms stand on end. As the performance went on he found himself leaning forward in his chair, completely caught up in the beauty of the voices and the power of the words. The lyrics were written like poetry, some of them religious in nature others more secular. One of the songs was a lover’s poem, they had been parted and their hearts yearned for each other so heavily that they could barely draw breath.

Aramis glanced at Athos to see if the man was also enjoying the performance and noticed something which shocked him. Even in the dimness of the room he could see something on Athos’ cheeks which were twinkling in the candlelight. Then he realised that tears were rolling down Athos’ face. The man was crying. As if he had caught Athos doing something intensely private, he quickly turned back again to watch the choir. He decided right there and then that he would never mention what he saw because he knew that Athos would probably be embarrassed about it and, actually, it was good to know that their stoic leader could get emotional sometimes.

The concert finished all too soon and Aramis had to stop himself from standing up and giving his applause. It seemed that sort of thing wasn’t done. So he sat down and clapped politely and then joined the crowd of people walking towards the exit, making sure that Athos was still with him the whole time.

Once outside in the chilly air Aramis smiled at his friend.

“Thank you. That was truly extraordinary,” Aramis said as he stood there, face looking up to the night sky and breathing in some of the fresh air. The other audience members dispersed around them, huddling close to their loved ones in the frosty temperatures.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Athos said as he stood there, waiting for Aramis to stop star-gazing. “May I walk you back to your room?”

Aramis turned Athos and started laughing. Athos never ‘walked him back to his room’, unless he was drunk. Although the times when Aramis ended up more intoxicated than Athos were very rare indeed. However Aramis stopped laughing when he noticed that Athos had flinched. It was almost like Aramis had made him feel foolish when, in fact, Athos was just being a gentleman. Aramis suddenly felt a little bad.

“I’m fine, Athos. I can find my way back to my room,” Aramis said but tried to sound light-hearted in his manner. “It really was a wonderful evening. It’s nice to see you enjoying things outside of a wine bottle for a change.”

The comment made Athos smile, just a little. “I was actually thinking about going riding on Sunday if the Captain doesn’t need us. Go outside Paris for a while. Does that interest you?”

Aramis nodded. He was up for doing anything which would stop him from getting bored. “Are you going to ask Porthos and d’Artagnan too?”

Athos opened his mouth to response immediately but then seemed to hesitate and pressed his lips together. After a moment of contemplation he ended up mumbling, “If you’d prefer.”

“Well I don’t mind,” Aramis said with a shrug. “I just thought that they might like to come. The four of us hardly ever get to enjoy riding apart from when we’re rushing off to protect King and country.”

It appeared to Aramis that Athos had suddenly lost interest. He was turning away from Aramis and looking down the street in the direction of where they’d both have to walk in order to get back to their lodgings.

“That’s fine,” Athos said and then finally glanced back at his companion. “Goodnight, Aramis. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He did a little bow and then walked off, leaving Aramis standing outside the music hall. 

Aramis thought that Athos was odd sometimes, they could have at least walked the first part home together but Athos had obviously had his fill of being social and wanted to be alone again. Aramis tried to respect that and not rush off after him. So he stood and admired the stars for a while longer, the angelic voices of the choir still tingling around in his memories. He smiled as he started walking home.


	2. Chapter 2

“Poetry reading?”

“Yes,” Aramis said, a smile on his face as he slid off his horse and handed the reins over to one of the stable boys. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Why the heck would I want to go to a poetry reading?” Porthos asked as he walked his own horse over to the outstretched arm of the same boy, sounding particularly grumpy about the piece of information Aramis had just bestowed on him, despite the fact he clearly had no interest in poetry.

“I’m just mentioning it so you don’t feel left out.”

“I do feel left out. All this time you’re spending with Athos doing…elegant things is taking away important drinking time with me.”

Aramis chuckled and reached out to give his friend a squeeze on the shoulder. Aramis always found like a little physical contact worked just as well as words, especially with Porthos.

“It’s not until Friday. I can spend every evening with you up until then.” He tugged on Porthos’ shoulder a little to stop him from walking, suddenly his tone turned more serious. He wanted to try and make Porthos understand why he felt this was so important. So he waited until Porthos was looking at him. “It’s a good thing that Athos is living his life again. I think it’s important that we encourage him. I don’t mind doing these things with him for a while. Then perhaps, in time, he’ll find himself a lady friend.”

Aramis immediately noticed the horror in Porthos’ eyes at the thought of Athos meeting someone new. It made Aramis laugh because he could understand the worry. “I think Athos getting married and leaving the Musketeers is still very unlikely. You don’t need to panic quite yet. But you know…” Aramis stepped forward and kept his voice down low. He didn’t want anyone else in the garrison to hear his next statement. “…I don’t think the poor man has been with a woman since his marriage ended. It’ll be good for him to sow his seeds a little.”

The comment made Porthos grimace and Aramis laugh. Perhaps that description hadn’t been the best image to have put into Porthos’ head. However their conversation was cut short because Athos walked over to join them.

“Aramis,” Athos said, sounding very formal like he always did. “I was wondering if I could borrow you for a couple of hours?”

Aramis felt confused. Athos had very rarely ‘borrowed’ him. He wasn’t entirely sure what Athos even meant by that. He glanced at Porthos who just shrugged and then walked off. That made Aramis frown. He made a mental note to make sure that he didn’t neglect Porthos whilst trying to help Athos. However, Porthos leaving meant that Aramis was indeed no longer busy.

“You may borrow me,” Aramis said and, before he even had the chance to ask Athos what was going on, he found himself following the man out of the garrison and through the streets of Paris.

Athos refused to tell him where they were going the entire journey until he opened the door of a store for him and indicated that Aramis should go inside. Aramis tried to get a look into the store window to give himself a clue but he barely had the chance to glance before he realised that Athos was waiting so he just dashed inside the building.

An elderly gentleman was standing there. Aramis could tell straight away that the man was a tailor, or at least he hoped that was why the man was eyeing his body up and down.

“Monsieur Tremblay, this is Aramis.”

“Good,” the old man said and waved Aramis over impatiently. “Stand here please.”

Before Aramis really understood what was happening he was walking over to the man and being made to stand on a platform. Then he was ordered to remove his coat and boots, before a leather strip was going up the inside of his thigh. Aramis looked over at Athos in a state of mild panic, just before he was ordered to stick his arms out. Athos actually chuckled. It was nice to see Athos chuckle.

“He’s going to make you a suit,” Athos explained. Although Aramis had partly figured that one out for himself. “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable again.”

Aramis couldn’t help but grin. His own suit. He hoped that it would be like the one Athos had worn to the choir. Although, looking around the store at all of the elegant fabrics and garments, a sense of worry suddenly washed over him.

“Athos,” he hissed out a whisper, which was slightly ridiculous considering the man he was trying to whisper to was much further away than the man who currently had his arms wrapped around his chest. “I’m not sure I have the money to…”

His sentence was cut-off by Athos who obviously already knew what he was about to say, “I was intending to pay.”

Aramis stared at Athos for a while and then turned his attention back to the tailor who was now measuring the length of his arms. Last week Athos had brought him a new sword and now a suit. Why was he suddenly getting all of the attention? Athos had been furious with him only a few weeks before when the Queen’s pregnancy was announced and now, suddenly, he was being treated to gifts. Aramis frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Was Athos trying to distract him from the Queen?

Now it all made sense. He silently fumed the entire time the tailor made him try on various different doublets to see which colour suited him the best.

He paid no interest in whatever colour the other two finally decided on. When the tailor finally finished, Aramis marched out of the store and stormed off down the street. He could hear Athos hurry after him.

“Aramis, have I offended you?” he could hear Athos ask from behind him but he didn’t turn, he didn’t even respond. “I apologise if I have but I don’t understand why.”

Aramis continued to walk. It all made perfect sense in his head. Athos thought if he could distract Aramis with nights out and gifts, then Aramis wouldn’t be thinking about the woman who was carrying his child. It was underhanded and not what he expected from Athos.

“Aramis,” Athos said again, this time he was speaking with a more commanding tone to his voice. “Why are you walking off? Are you upset that I offered to pay? I didn’t mean to disrespect you….”

Realising that Athos wasn’t going to let up Aramis decided to give him a piece of his mind. He turned around and pointed a finger at Athos. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can distract me and I’ll just…forget? It won’t work, Athos.”

Athos looked utterly perplexed as he stood there, staring at the aggressive finger before looking at Aramis.

“Distract you from what?” he asked, actually sounding remarkably innocent, which made Aramis unsure if he was just good at acting or if, in fact, Aramis had got it wrong. Still he felt too angry to back down.

“You know what. You don’t trust me. You think I’m going to do something stupid. I’m aware of how my actions have put you all into danger. I know how I’m meant to behave and I will behave accordingly.”

Athos, with his hands out at his sides in an open manner, continued to look confused. “Aramis, please explain what you mean. Are you talking about the baby?”

Aramis gave a firm nod, even though he knew that Athos understood very well what he meant.

“You think I'm asking you to accompany me to events because I'm trying to distract you from that?”

Aramis gave another nod, slowly lowering his arm to his side, clenching his fingers in a tense fist.

Athos scoffed. Aramis frowned at the scoff, he wasn’t sure he liked the scoff but the fact that Athos found the accusation preposterous was making Aramis wonder if he had made a big mistake and he started to calm down. Neither of them spoke for a moment and the lingering silence made Aramis feel awkward so he had to speak first.

“You were not?”

“No,” Athos said. He was no longer looking at Aramis, he was looking down at Aramis’ legs and shifting about uncomfortably. “I was not. This might shock you to hear this, Aramis but, as much as I find you incredibly frustrating at times…I also enjoy your company.”

The words hit Aramis like a barrel of whiskey thumping him hard on the head. He suddenly felt terrible. Had Athos actually just been reaching out as a friend all this time? And now Aramis had accused him of something quite different.

“Oh,” was the only response Aramis could manage as a sense of stupidly hung heavy on his mind. “I thought that…”

“I am aware of what you thought,” Athos said. “You just made that quite clear. There was a part in the back of my mind that thought you, perhaps, would welcome a distraction but I can assure you that there was no malice or ill-will in my intent. I just wanted to spend some time with you. Perhaps that was the mistake.”

Now it was the turn of Athos to walk away. Aramis felt terrible but he had been left a little lost for words and he wouldn’t know what he would say to Athos if he caught up with him. So he let Athos leave.

\-----------------------------------------------

After an initial awkwardness the following day, Treville sending them on a mission helped the situation and soon the usual banter was flying about between the four of them. D’Artagnan, as usual, became the butt of all their jokes which he took with grace and even managed a couple of well-timed comebacks. By the time Friday dawned they were back in Paris and the new suit was ready.

Aramis asked if Athos still wanted company for the poetry evening and he received a rather nonchalant nod in response which Aramis took as a yes.

So Aramis was all dressed up and ready for when Athos came to his room. Seeing Aramis in the suit certainly put a small smile onto Athos’ face.

“You look very dashing,” Athos informed Aramis, which made the grin on Aramis’ face stretch even wider. He was finding that he liked it when Athos paid him a compliment. The man didn’t do it very often and there was always great honesty whenever he said something kind.

On the way to the poetry reading Athos was chatty again. He asked Aramis about his experience with poetry. Aramis had spent a lot of his youth reading, mostly whilst he was hiding and trying to get out of doing real work. So he told Athos all about his favourite poems and, as it turned out, they both shared a couple of favourite poets.

Aramis enjoyed the poetry reading immensely. The atmosphere was very casual and everyone sat around drinking wine whilst visiting poets and enthusiastic amateurs stood up to read their work. Aramis spent some of the evening chatting to a couple of ladies who were sitting at the table beside them, charming them to the best of his ability. He tried to introduce them to Athos but Athos mostly ignored them and just listened to the poetry.

When the evening was over, Aramis bowed and kissed both of their hands before heading out with Athos.

“Which was your favourite?” Athos asked once they started walking home.

“The blond. The darked-haired lady was intriguing but the way the blond laughed was….”

“I meant the poems,” Athos interrupted with a slight roll of his eyes.

“Oh!” Aramis smiled. “I enjoyed the one about the feast and the one about irises. Only because irises happen to be my favourite flowers.”

“I thought those two were good as well,” Athos said.

“Has it inspired you to go home and write?” Aramis asked teasingly as they walked side-by-side. Athos laughed a little and suddenly Aramis felt very privileged. That was twice now in one week.

“Not quite. I don’t think the world is ready to hear what I’d come up with.”

“I’m sure it’ll be suitably thought-provoking and dark…very dark.”

Athos almost looked offended. “I always thought my talent would lie in comedy.”

This time it was Aramis’ turn to laugh. “Well, you never know. I look forward to your poetry recital over breakfast in the morning. I’m sure the other two would love to hear it.”

“They’d wet themselves laughing for all the wrong reasons,” Athos mumbled seriously. His dead-pan comment just made Aramis laugh all the more. They were so busy talking that Aramis barely noticed the time pass and, before he knew it, they were standing outside his boardings.

“Thank you for yet another wonderful evening,” Aramis said with a smile. “We should make a habit of this.”

Athos paused for a moment, looking a little surprised, then he nodded. “I’d like that very much. Goodnight, Aramis.” He seemed to hesitate before he bowed a little and then strolled off. Aramis smiled as he watched him go. He was thoroughly enjoying spending time alone with Athos and seeing those stone walls starting to crumble down.

In the morning Aramis begrudgingly rolled out from his warm bed covers to get dressed. When he opened his door he found a surprise waiting for him on the ground. A bunch of purple irises. Aramis picked them up and smiled to himself before carrying them into the garrison proudly. The other three were already sitting and eating breakfast. Porthos and d’Artagnan stared at the flowers as Aramis approached.

“Who are they for?” Porthos asked gruffly before chewing off a piece of bread.

“They’re for me,” Aramis announced, swinging his leg over the bench and sitting down. He put the flowers down in the middle of the table. He would have to find a suitable vase for them. The garrison did need a bit of colour.

“I thought gentlemen were meant to buy ladies flowers?” d’Artagnan queried. “Not the other way round.”

“They’re not from a lady. They’re from Athos.”

There was a stunned silence which hung over the table for a few seconds before Porthos and d’Artagnan burst out laughing. Aramis glanced at Athos who wasn’t really doing anything and then frowned at his friends.

“There was a poem last night about irises. I mentioned that was one of my favourites.”

The explanation did nothing to quell the laughter. Indeed Porthos soon had tears rolling down his eyes which he was wiping away as he tried to speak.

“If you were a woman, Aramis, I’d think that Athos was trying to court you.”

Aramis smiled and laughed at the thought. Indeed Porthos was right, it was all a little silly really. They were still laughing when Aramis looked over at Athos again, assuming to see the man finding it just as amusing. Except Athos didn’t. He was staring down at his hands awkwardly. In fact his cheeks were blushing red and he looked a little humiliated. He mumbled something which couldn’t be heard over the laughter and got up from the bench, walking off towards the stables. Aramis slowly stopped laughing just as realisation dawned on him…


	3. Chapter 3

Aramis didn’t go after Athos. He was too shocked to move. He watched Athos walk off and disappear into the stables. Aramis couldn’t understand it. Flirting and courting were both two areas in which Aramis considered himself quite the expert. How had he not realised before that Athos…liked him? Perhaps because the thought never even occurred to him. Yet confronting Milady had obviously done more for Athos than just let him move on from his disastrous marriage, it had given Athos the confidence to do something about his feelings.

Aramis groaned. This was complicated, certainly, but not a complete disaster. Except he suddenly felt really ashamed for laughing and embarrassing Athos like that. The amount of courage it must have taken Athos to decide to court another man was really quite something and they had all sat there and laughed at him, albeit while not realising that they were.

Aramis turned to the other two who were now tucking into their breakfast completely oblivious as to why Athos had walked off which was exactly the way Aramis hoped it would stay.

As soon as they had eaten and their duty at the palace was looming, Aramis made sure that he jogged over to the stables to get some time alone with Athos before the other two joined them. He knew that he only had a couple of minutes so he had to say something quickly. He found Athos putting reins onto his horse.

“Athos…” Aramis began and waited for the man to acknowledge his presence, which he half did with a quick glance before he turned back to the horse. “Thank you for the flowers, it was a lovely surprise.”

Athos didn’t say anything, he just continued to tie up the reins and then he walked past Aramis, which made Aramis have to step back out of the way. Aramis sighed, Athos really did seem upset. He watched as Athos picked up the saddle and started to heave it onto the horse’ back. Aramis tried to figure out what to do. He didn’t want Athos to give up. It was a good thing that Athos was trying to court someone. Aramis wanted to encourage him for a while. He had a sudden thought…fishing.

“I was thinking…” Aramis began. He wasn’t entirely sure that Athos was properly listening but Athos was close enough that he didn’t have much of a choice. “…you always tell me off for fishing with my bare hands. Perhaps you could teach me the stick and string technique? I would like to learn.”

“It’s called a fishing rod,” Athos mumbled. So, he was listening after all.

“Yes,” Aramis agreed. “What do you think?”

Athos’ fingers paused on the saddles’ buckles. He slowly turned to finally look at Aramis. “You wish to go fishing with me?” He asked, as if he needed to check.

“I want _you_ to ask _me_ to go fishing with you,” Aramis pointed out, putting an emphasis on who should be doing what. In order for Athos to court him, he needed to make sure that Athos was still doing the asking. Athos appeared to think about it for a while and then gave a slow nod. He let go of the saddle and turned to Aramis properly. He took in a deep breath which Aramis now knew meant that he was going to ask something which he found a little awkward so Aramis gave him an encouraging smile.

“I’d very much enjoy teaching you how to fish properly. Perhaps you’d like to go when we next have a day to rest?”

“Lovely!” Aramis said, actually sounding far happier about the idea than he had intended. He hoped that Athos wouldn’t think he was being sarcastic. “I’d love to go fishing. Thanks for asking.” He smiled and turned away, going off to find his horse. Instead he found d’Artagnan standing there with his mouth open, looking like a gasping fish.

“Why is he asking you to go fishing?” he enquired, watching as Aramis walked past.

“D’Artagnan, didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations?” Aramis said as he patted his horses’ neck. D’Artagnan, however, had just moved closer to Aramis.

“Can I come? I’ve always wanted to learn how to do it properly.”

Aramis eyed him up for a moment. He didn’t want to exclude the boy but it wouldn’t be much of a private moment if d’Artagnan was there. He thought for a moment before making an offer which he considered fair.

“Perhaps the time after? By then I’ll also know what I’m doing and we can both teach you.”

D’Artagnan clearly didn’t approve of the offer because he frowned. “S’not fair.”

Aramis watched him walk off, feeling a little guilty. However, the whole situation was complicated enough without having to worry about making d’Artagnan jealous. A moment later he caught Porthos looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Aramis immediately nodded. “Everything will be wonderful,” he assured his friend because he believed in his words. He just needed to allow Athos to court him until Athos had built up his confidence enough to go and court someone else. It was a good plan.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, fishing with a rod and stick was tedious and boring. It was nothing like trying to catch a bolting fish with your bare hands. That was exciting. Standing on the bank of a river, in breeches and a shirt, with a stick in the hand was just dull.

Athos, however, appeared to be in his element. Aramis wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Athos so content and relaxed. He even closed his eyes at one point, as if he was soaking up the silence and tranquillity of the river. Aramis just frowned. He wanted to go back to Paris and find a lively tavern. Still, he reminded himself, this wasn’t about him, it was about Athos.

So he stood there with his stick waiting for a dumb fish to try and eat the worm he had put on the end of his fishing-line. Athos had already caught two fish, Aramis had caught none and yet Aramis couldn’t fathom what Athos was doing differently.

“Perhaps we should wade out into the water?” Aramis suggested. He needed to talk at least before the boredom made him fall asleep.

Athos looked over at him and then examined the river. “You could but you’d have to stand very still. It’s deep enough here. We should just stay on the bank.”

Aramis nodded and, without meaning to, sighed. Athos was staring at him, Aramis was suddenly very aware of the eyes. There was a silence for a moment before Athos spoke.

“You’re not enjoying yourself, are you?”

Immediately Aramis went into charm mode. He really didn’t want Athos to think that he wasn’t having a good time. “No it’s wonderful! The sound of the birds, the trickle of the water, standing here in the hazy sunshine. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

Athos snorted and his the side of his lip curled up a little. The smile made a larger one appear on Aramis’ face. He enjoyed seeing Athos smile. It made his stomach feel warm each time he was granted the privilege of seeing it.

“You hate it,” Athos said, although he sounded more amused than offended. “You don’t have to be polite.”

Now that he had permission Aramis lowered his fishing rod down by his side and whined a little. “Yes it’s incredibly boring. I’m sorry, Athos, I am trying to find the joy in this but just standing here…for hours on end…how is this fun?”

Athos didn’t seem offended at all, in fact he had a look of fond amusement on his face.

“Then we can stop. Why don’t we build a fire and cook the fish I’ve caught?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Aramis insisted. He didn’t want Athos to have to stop just because he was getting itchy-feet. “I can carry on for a little while longer. We need more than two fish.”

“There are two of us,” Athos pointed out as he placed his own rod down on the ground. “Two will be enough.”

“No,” Aramis insisted. “I can be patient, I promise.” He lifted up his rod again and silently prayed that God would send them a giant fish that was really hungry for his worm. But Athos was walking over and soon standing in front of Aramis, gently he placed his hand over Aramis’ and pushed the rod back down.

“It’s fine, we’ll stop. I’m hungry anyway,” Athos said as he stood in front of Aramis and, slowly, something changed in his face. Aramis froze. Athos eyes’ were examining his face like he’d never seen it before. They finally seemed to settle on Aramis’ mouth.

There was a sudden tension in the air and Aramis could feel his chest tightening. He could hear Athos breathing heavily and saw Athos taking a tiny tentative step towards him. Oh goodness…he was going to kiss him. Aramis suddenly panicked, Athos wanted to kiss him! Of course he did, he was being courted. Courting leads to kissing.

Aramis didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t push Athos away, Athos knew that Aramis was no blushing damsel but a kiss…that would change everything. Athos took another small step closer and Aramis found himself feeling frustrated with the hesitation that Athos displaying. For heaven’s sake, Athos, he thought loudly, if you’re going to kiss me just do it!

Aramis could feel the warmth radiating off Athos’ body as their chests were almost in contact. Athos looked nervous, he looked like he was seeking permission somehow. He just stared at Aramis’ mouth but didn’t do anything.

Finally Aramis had enough of all the tentative nonsense. He dropped his rod to the ground, lifted his arms up, placed his hands either side of Athos’ face and tugged him forward. Then he planted his lips against the other man’s and kissed him. He could feel the tension in Athos’ face as he pushed their lips together but then, as he moved his mouth and forced Athos to move his also, he started to feel Athos relax. In fact, Athos even groaned as he opened up his mouth and invited Aramis’ tongue inside. Aramis hadn’t even realised that his tongue had been seeking entrance until it was exploring inside the warm mouth. When a tongue pushed back against his it made something in his groin tingle. Another moan, this time coming from himself, as his fingers slipped into Athos’ hair.

It was very different from kissing a woman. He could feel the bristle of facial hair and the scar on Athos’ top lip. Yet it was just as exciting. Firm fingers were soon on his hips, holding him steady which was very much appreciated considering his legs were starting to wobble. Another groan, this time he wasn’t sure who it came from, as their lips moved in unison and their tongues gently brushed up against each other.

Aramis was the first to pull away, just because he had somehow forgotten to breathe and he was starting to feel dizzy. When his mouth was free he panted and licked his lips slowly. They tasted of Athos, it was oddly comforting. With his fingers still tangled in Athos’ hair he looked for a reaction. He had kissed Athos for the man’s own sake after all, he wanted to make sure that Athos had enjoyed it.

It was difficult to tell what Athos was thinking at the best of times but his current expression wasn’t giving Aramis any clues. Come on, Athos, he thought, I know I’m a good kisser. Eventually Athos seemed to let out a bit of a huff and that curled lip came back again. Aramis lowered his arms as Athos turned his gaze to look down at the ground. It was a habit that was starting to frustrate Aramis to no end.

“I’ll…umm…I’ll go and fetch some firewood,” he muttered to the grass then let go of Aramis’ hips to turn and walk off.

What the?! Aramis wanted to cry out to him and ask him to stop, but Athos was already walking off. They’d just kissed each other and now Athos was fetching firewood.

“You really are utterly useless, Athos,” Aramis whispered once Athos was too far away to even hear it. Aramis let out a long sigh and then reached up to touch his lips. The kiss hadn’t felt as strange as he would have thought. In fact…he had enjoyed it. He found himself…wanting to do it again. No, that was ridiculous. He had just done it to give Athos confidence. He couldn’t have actually enjoyed kissing his friend. That didn’t make sense at all.

Aramis just found himself feeling confused as he waited for Athos to get back with wood for the fire. He sat with the fish and just waited until Athos appeared again. Athos didn’t look confused, he didn’t really look like anything. He looked like Athos. Aramis let out a sigh without meaning to as Athos started to build the fire. The noise made Athos look up.

“Do you need to…talk?” he asked, sounding rather like he was offering the service to Aramis to be polite. Aramis shook his head. He did want to say something but he had no-idea what. Surprisingly it was Athos who continued to offer up the conversation.

“We just need to be discreet. I’m sure you understand that. It’s very important,” Athos said and Aramis nodded. Trust Athos to say something so practical and un-romantic. There was something inside of Aramis which wanted to burst but he was so afraid of the words that might tumble out of his mouth that he just kept quiet and nodded. He could do discreet. He had spent his entire life adult life being someone’s dirty little secret.

Like he was reading Aramis’ mind, Athos paused in his fire making and got up. He walked over to Aramis and then knelt down in front of him. With a cold hand he cupped the side of Aramis’ face. Aramis was a little surprised but found himself pressing his cheek against the hand, needing that physical connection.

“Sorry,” Athos said softly. “This must be strange for you. Are you sure that you wouldn’t like to talk?”

Then Aramis, looking into his comrade’s intense dark eyes, found himself feeling far more content about the whole thing.

He wasn’t confused anymore, he realised. He just cared about Athos deeply and perhaps some of those feelings had just become a little mixed-up in his head. He wanted to help Athos and this was part of the deal.

“I’m not confused, it’s fine,” Aramis reassured Athos with a beam of a smile. This seemed to relax Athos and he pulled his hand away. It suddenly dawned on Aramis how sweet Athos was. Clearly he wasn’t the sort of man who found expressing emotions easy, yet his feelings were evident in everything he did. Every compliment he made, every gift he bestowed and every thoughtful action he took. Lighting a fire and cooking fish was Athos’ way of showing affection.

Unfortunately Aramis knew people well enough to understand that they would need more than just cooked fish and stolen kisses. If Athos was to find someone special then Aramis would have to teach him a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Aramis will get there in the end...I promise ;)]


	4. Chapter 4

Aramis was relieved when Athos asked d’Artagnan to spar with him one morning because he was getting rather bored of seeing d’Artagnan’s jealous face. So he sat and watched the pair of them whilst he cleaned his weapons with Porthos on the bench but his mind was elsewhere. He was trying to come up with ways in which he could help Athos be more romantic.

“Porthos,” Aramis said, wondering if it would be useful to bounce his thoughts off his good friend. “If you were the sort of person who found it difficult expressing your feelings to a woman, how would you go about it?”

“I dunno,” Porthos admitted, glancing up to watch Athos, as if he knew why Aramis was requesting the information, whilst being completely clueless to the true situation at the same time. “I’d do it in a way that I didn’t have to be quite so direct. Like…write a letter maybe.”

“Ah,” Aramis smiled. “Perfect.” He went back to stroking his pistol with the cloth.

“Aramis,” Porthos slid over on the bench to get a little closer to his friend. “…maybe you shouldn’t push him. He seems to be quite happy just spending time with you. He might not even want a woman for the time-being. Just let him do things at his own pace.”

Aramis looked at Porthos and nodded, pretending that he was taking in the advice. If only Porthos knew what had happened during the fishing-trip. Athos had sped up his pace which was why Aramis needed to keep up with him.

When Athos next approached Aramis in private to invite him to another music recital, this time a string quartet, Aramis didn’t accept the offer straight away. He had another idea.

"Why don't you write a letter to me inviting me to the music recital? In the letter you should tell me why you enjoying spending time with me," Aramis suggested, putting his first lesson in romance into practice.  
  
Athos looked utterly confused. "A letter?"  
  
"Yes," Aramis insisted. "A letter would be very romantic. Also mention what it is that you like about me."  
  
Athos seemed completely lost for words and started at Aramis blankly for a while before nodding a little. "I can write a letter."  
  
"I know you can," Aramis encouraged with a smile. Getting Athos used to writing romantic letters was going to be a good first lesson.

The following day they were at the palace and Athos discreetly gave Aramis a piece of paper. Aramis took it with a smile and slipped it inside his coat where a little pocket was hidden. He spent the rest of the day excited to see what poor Athos had been forced to come up with. So excited in fact that, the moment he got back to his quarters, he lit a fire to get some light into the room. Once it was burning brightly he pulled the letter out from his coat which was hanging by the door and went over to sit on his bed.  
  
Aramis had received love letters before from bored wives and lonely widows. They often spoke of his handsome face, carnal eyes, sensual fingers and talented tongue. Although Athos, of course, wouldn't have experienced some of those things. Still naughty and filthy letters were what Aramis was used to although, once he started thinking about it, he realised that Athos probably didn’t even know how to be filthy.  
  
So, instead, he decided to anticipate a rather awkwardly written letter about fishing and composers. Aramis could no longer wait, he was too eager to discover how much work he had on his hands to turn Athos into a romantic. So he sat on the edge of his bed and leaned forward towards the fire, the light of the flames helping him read the words.  
  
_My dearest Aramis_  
  
_Whilst I find your insistence that I write you a letter rather infuriating, I am doing so to gratify your romantic desires because these past few weeks have been the most satisfying weeks I have experienced in a very long time. Therefore, I find myself not wishing for this to end, hence the letter. It will be concise._  
  
_I would take great pleasure in attending another music recital with you because your positive nature is rather infectious, your humour amuses me and your generous heart is something I greatly admire. In short, I find joy in your company._

 _I also truly believe that, beneath the charm and bravado, you have no idea how beautiful you really are. I hope you will allow me the privilege of showing you._  
  
_A_  
  
Aramis' hands started to shake so much that the letter slipped out of his fingers and the paper started floating towards the crackling fire. He suddenly gasped and reached out to grab it, catching it before the flames took hold. He scrunched it up in his fingers and continued to shake. The letter...he hadn't expected it to...he was making Athos happy. He was _really_ making Athos happy.  
  
He had to stand up to pull himself together. His legs worked enough that he began to pace the room but he still found himself shaking and overwhelmed, the words repeating around in his head. '...you have no-idea how beautiful you really are...' '...privilege of showing you...'  
  
Athos obviously knew how to write a letter far better than Aramis had given him credit for. He seemed to know the right words to say despite the fact Aramis wasn’t sure how much he had meant them.

Aramis sat himself back down on his bed and ran his fingers through his hair as he stared at the fire. Then, on impulse, he loosened his fingers on the letter and threw it into the flames. He watched as paper danced about before the fire took hold and the letter disappeared before his eyes. He felt better almost immediately. Perhaps Athos didn't need as much help in romantic letter writing as Aramis had first thought.

The following day Athos looked nervous again, obviously worried about the reaction Aramis had to his letter. Aramis found himself not even knowing what to say. He had barely slept the night before, thinking about the words and wondering why Athos would say such things.

After they had left Treville’s office Athos suddenly grabbed Aramis by the arm and forced him to stop walking whilst the other two continued down the steps.

“You read my letter?” Athos asked, searching Aramis’ eyes for a reaction. Aramis found that he was unable to be anything apart from honest.

“Yes.”

“And…would you still like to go to the string quartet with me?”

Athos looked so anxious that it broke Aramis’ heart. He wanted to just hold him and tell him how wonderful the letter had been but he couldn’t because they were in the middle of the garrison and too close to prying eyes.

“Yes, absolutely yes,” he said, hoping that would be reassurance enough. The fingers which had been gripping his arm loosened and Athos suddenly looked relieved. He even let another small smile escape.

It was there and then that Aramis decided that he had let things go a little too far. The letter proved that Athos did clearly like him and, if he was going to put a stop to that, he’d have to do it sooner rather than later. He could help Athos with being romantic without having to lead the man on. So, Aramis decided, he’d have to be very honest with Athos after the music recital about everything.

The string quartet played beautifully and Aramis would have found himself drifting off to the soothing music if it hadn’t been for the fact his stomach was in knots about the thought of having to let Athos down. He was worried about their friendship but that was exactly why he needed to tell Athos the truth before it went any further. One kiss was bad enough.

Once they were outside the heavens opened and Aramis didn’t much appreciate the weather matching his mood. Still, he couldn’t deny that running back to his quarters with Athos, splashing through mud, trying not to get thoroughly drenched or crash into each other as the rain blinded them, wasn’t somewhat amusing.

When they got inside Aramis’ quarters, they both immediately hung up their hats and started to remove their wet clothes. Aramis went over to the fire to get it going. Perhaps trapping Athos in the house because of his damp clothes for a while would provide the perfect opportunity for them to have the ‘talk’. He lit the fire and turned to watch Athos pull off his muddy boots until Athos obviously noticed him staring and stopped suddenly.

“Sorry, I…I should have asked. Do you mind if I stay here until the storm has passed?”

Aramis snorted, “Of course you can.” Before the whole courting business they had thought nothing of spending time in each other’s quarters. Upon realising that Athos was drenched to the bone, Aramis went over to his wooden chest and pulled out a clean shirt.

“Here, put this on,” he said, walking over to Athos who had just put his wet boots by the fire.

He stood in front of Aramis and eyed the shirt. Then, with a slight blush creeping across his cheeks, he undid his clothes and eventually pulled his wet shirt off, eventually standing there topless. Aramis froze, the spare shirt in his hand just hanging there as he looked at Athos in a way he’d never looked at Athos before. The fire was lighting his skin in a warm yellow glow. His wet hair dripping glistening rain-drops onto his shoulders. His chest rising slowly up and down.

He had wanted to break up with Athos but now he wanted to…kiss Athos. He took a slow step forward and let the shirt slide from his fingers and onto the floor. Athos mirrored the move and, before Aramis knew what was happening, hands were grabbing his shirt and he was being pulled against the inviting body. He gasped seconds before a warm mouth covered his and then he sank into the kiss. Lips were assaulting his own, pressing passionately and desperately and he shrugged to keep up. Soon there was a tongue as well, searching and probing. Aramis found himself inviting it in with a delighted moan. He had to reach for Athos before he fell over, holding himself up by gripping onto the bare shoulders but Athos had a grip on his shirt so firm that somehow he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Except the hands in his shirt didn’t stay there for long. As the heated kiss continued the same hands started tugging at Aramis’ shirt and pulling it out of his breeches. Then cold fingers on his back, so cold that it made Aramis shiver violently. The contact made him want Athos more and he moved forward, pressing his body against the warm one in front of him. The mouth, the tongue and the onslaught continued so frenziedly that Aramis hadn’t even realised that he was getting hard until he felt it pushing against the fabric of his breeches. That’s when he panicked, he pulled his lips away and jumped back so fast that his ankle hit the leg of a chair and he stumbled backwards. He somehow managed to reach out and grab the top of the fire-place to steady himself as he panted furiously.

“Say something,” he suddenly found himself begging. “For the love of god, Athos, say something.”

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear but he wanted Athos to say something. He needed him to speak and not just go off and get sodding firewood. Athos stood there for a while, his chest heaving as well, lust clear from the dark pupils in his eyes.

“Thank you,” was what he eventually said so calmly that Aramis made a noise which sounded a little like a sob. Thank you. He’d never heard anything so perfect.

What on earth was happening? Aramis felt dizzy suddenly and he fumbled for the chair he had fallen over. He gripped hard onto the arm of the chair as he sank down into it and immediately leaned forward, running his fingers through his damp hair and staring down at the floor hoping that the room would stop spinning.

A few seconds later he felt something on his back. It began to move, rubbing in slow circles. I have to stop, we have to stop, were the words going round and round in Aramis’ head. What was happening? It was all going so terribly wrong.

“You’re shivering,” he heard Athos said from somewhere very close-by. Aramis was but he wasn’t entirely sure that it was because of the cold. Still, Athos continued, “Let me help you get into bed.”

Like a wooden marionette Aramis found himself being sat up and Athos started to undressed him. He just let Athos do what he wanted. It wasn’t long until he found himself in nothing but his breeches and Athos was pulling the blankets back on the bed. Aramis got up and wobbled over to his bed but, just before he moved to get in, he reached for Athos’ arm.

“Stay with me,” he asked. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone with his confused thoughts in a dark room. Athos nodded but waited for Aramis to get into bed before joining him and pulling the blankets up over them both. Aramis slowly started to feel normal again and, whilst Athos had made no move to touch him, Aramis needed some physical contact. Touching someone always made things feel safer. So he tentatively curled up against Athos, wrapping his arm across Athos’ warm stomach.

He felt Athos press his lips against the top of his head and then stroke his hair slowly. It was exactly what Aramis needed.

Well that talk didn’t go so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Next chapter - When someone gets shot it all starts going a bit wrong...angst, yay!]


	5. Chapter 5

Aramis woke up to find the room moving. Or perhaps the room wasn’t moving, just his pillow. Except his pillow was strangely warm and hairy. Opening up his sleepy eyes he discovered that it wasn’t a pillow at all, it was a man’s chest. After lifting his head slightly he further discovered who the chest belonged to. Athos was still asleep, breathing deeply as he snored quietly. Aramis rarely saw Athos asleep as the man usually went to sleep last and woke up first. Athos almost looked peaceful. Perhaps the demons and responsibilities which plagued him when he was awake were all forgotten in his dreams.

Aramis rolled onto his stomach and continued to watch Athos until the memory of the night before sunk back into his head and he suddenly felt sick. How had wanting to let Athos down easy turn into kissing and sharing a bed together?

Aramis sighed and rested his chin down onto Athos’ chest which, unfortunately, seemed to wake Athos up. The man stretched his legs and yawned. Aramis decided that, if he going to say something, then he needed to say it straight away whilst he still had the courage to do so.

“This is a really bad idea,” he said softly once he was certain that Athos was awake. Athos opened his eyes slowly and looked down at him.

“I know,” he agreed. It took Aramis by surprise. He lifted his head up.

“You do?”

“Certainly,” Athos said, sounding surprisingly alert for someone who had only just woken up. “If anyone found out we’d be arrested and it would bring shame to the Musketeers.”

“Oh,” Aramis responded, feeling disappointed. He had thought for a moment that Athos somehow knew what had been going on in his head. The fact that Aramis had in fact just been doing it all to help Athos build up his confidence, not because he actually wanted Athos to be with him. Athos deserved better. “No, I meant that…”

Suddenly there was hammering on the door which made them both jump. Then they froze for a second as a cry of ‘Aramis!’ came from outside in a voice that clearly belonged to Porthos. They both scrambled at the bed-covers, desperately trying to get them off until Aramis saw sense and grabbed Athos by the shoulder.

“No, wait, us acting guilty will make us look guilty. We need to calm down,” Aramis pointed out and Athos obviously agreed because he lowered himself back down onto the bed. Aramis climbed over Athos and eventually managed to escape. He straightened his breeches before walking over to the door.

It was freezing so he scampered over quickly and opened the door to Porthos. The light coming from outside immediately made him squint and he suddenly wondered how long they’d slept.

“Morning,” Porthos said, shoving at the door which almost sent Aramis flying before strolling into the room. “Thought I’d come by to see if you were re...” He paused mid-word as he noticed the other body in the bed. There was silence in the room for a couple of seconds before Porthos suddenly burst out laughing.

“Was the music recital so wild that you had to sleep here, Athos?” he asked with great amusement in his voice. Athos looked embarrassed as he sat up in bed which, in fairness, he would have done anyway even if he wasn’t guilty of anything apart from having a few too many glasses of wine.

“Something like that,” he mumbled.

Porthos continued to laugh. “Maybe I should come to these things after all. I didn’t know so much drinking was involved.” His eyes scanned the room and he spotted the wet clothes hanging around the place. “Did you get caught in that storm?” he asked in a friendly manner.

“Yes,” Aramis said, he was losing feeling in his toes so he ran back towards the bed and got back under the covers.

“Oy,” Porthos frowned as he watched Aramis dash across the room. “You do remember that the Captain wanted us at the garrison nice and early today, don’t you?”

A rare curse word came from Athos as he flung back the covers and hurriedly started searching for his clothes. Aramis, however, was less enthusiastic and just pulled the covers up tighter.

“Aramis, get out of bed,” Athos ordered as he began getting dressed.

“No, too cold,” Aramis mumbled childishly from his cosy cocoon.

Then he heard Athos request that Porthos ‘deal with it’ and, the next thing he knew, the covers were being tugged off quite violently. He squealed and tried to get them back but Porthos wasn’t having any of it. Well, Aramis thought silently in his head, at least not everything has changed.

The Captain had wanted them there early because he had a duty for them. A traitor was being beheaded and Treville was worried that the misguided followers of the accused might try to break him free. Like ‘others had done before’ he noted, giving a pointed look at Porthos as he said the words. The King had requested that some of his Musketeers attend the event just in case trouble did erupt.

Whilst none of them particularly wanted to witness a beheading, they did as they were asked. Athos spread them out around the court-yard, also giving orders to some of the prison guards who were stationed around.

It went from being a quiet courtyard to being filled with people a little too quickly for Aramis’ liking and he could tell from sly glances which some of the crowd were giving to each other that they were planning to cause some trouble. He could only hope that the presence of the Musketeers was enough to give them second thoughts.

When the condemned man was dragged out Aramis stepped to one side. When men were stripped down to breeches and shirts, they all looked the same. He could have been a lord or a pauper but knowing the truth wouldn’t have stopped Aramis from saying a quick prayer anyway. As he watched the man being dragged, shouting words against the King, Aramis took the cross out of his shirt and said a prayer for the man. He prayed for his soul and asked that God judge his life fairly. As soon as he had tucked the cross back in he received a slap on the arm from Porthos.

“Come on,” Porthos said and Aramis immediately followed. Porthos had obviously spotted something and he was leading Aramis to another part of the crowd where a few hooded men had gathered, lingering around in a rather suspicious manner.

They both stood back and watched carefully as the prisoner was thrown forward onto the block. He was still shouting angry words about the King but Aramis was focused on the hooded men, one of whom seemed to shoot a concerned look to another when he spotted the Musketeers.

A moment later Aramis caught a glint from a sword underneath the cloak of one of the men seconds before there were cries from the crowd and chaos erupted. Swords were being pulled out from underneath garments and suddenly they were being attacked.

Aramis pulled out his own sword and fought back to defend himself as two men came to subdue him. It didn’t take him long to fight them off and soon they lay crumpled at his feet, clutching wounds and moaning.

“Get to the prisoner!” he yelled at Porthos who was also knocking someone out. Porthos nodded and they both raced towards the platform. If these people were attempting to free the prisoner, that’s where they would also be heading.

There was a lot of pushing and shoving, but Aramis managed to reach the platform seconds after Porthos. Porthos clambered up on top, dragging the prisoner back to his feet and yelling at the prison guards to get him back inside. Aramis stayed down below because men were running towards them with swords in their hands.

Aramis tried to fight them off but he was facing too many. One man got him from behind and grabbed his arm, stopping him from using his sword. Another seized him from the front and the two of them tried to pull Aramis to the ground. Aramis managed to stay on his feet, desperately trying not to be overcome but then a third man joined the fray and Aramis felt his legs give way.

He fell onto his knees and started to worry. If they got him to the ground he was dead.

“Aramis!” he heard a yell and two hands soon disappeared from his coat as one of the men was pulled away. Athos was there, fighting the man off. Athos swung his arm and hit the man square in the face with the hilt of his sword which made the attacker drop to the ground unconscious. Suddenly the man behind him disappeared too and Aramis turned to see Porthos growling as he threw the man against the platform. The third man obviously saw sense, let go of Aramis and ran.

“I’ve got him,” Porthos said to Athos. “Go.”

Porthos did indeed ‘have him’. Aramis found himself being tugged back onto his feet by Porthos’ strong arms. Athos nodded at Porthos and then a shot rang out from the courtyard. They all turned but it was difficult to see amongst the chaos what was happening. People were now shouting and screaming, trying to get away. There was another shot and Athos immediately raced off towards the noise, Aramis found his legs doing the same and he ran towards the shooting without a second thought.

The crowd dispersing meant that the scene soon became clear as they got closer. A man holding a still smoking pistol lay dead on the ground, sliced through by a sword and d’Artagnan lay not so far away, clutching his shoulder as blood poured through his fingers. Still, he managed a weak smile when he spotted them.

“D’Artagnan,” Athos gasped and fell to his knees immediately beside the boy. Aramis kicked the pistol away from the dead man’s hand just in case and then went over to assist.

“I’m fine,” d’Artagnan was saying although the colour draining from his face perhaps said otherwise. “Just a scratch.”

Aramis smiled fondly at him but Athos was looking as pale as their comrade as he pulled d’Artagnan up and held him in his arms. He looked up at Aramis, clearly needing some help.

Aramis went over and knelt down in front of them both. He gently pulled d’Artagnan’s hand away to look at the bullet wound and then pushed the lad’s hand back onto it. He leaned over to see if the bullet had come out the other side. The wound on the back of his shoulder looked far worse but the sight of it was a relief.

“It went straight through,” he assured Athos more than d’Artagnan. “We just need to stop the bleeding, give him some stitches and he’ll be back to normal before we know it.”

By that time Porthos had joined them and loomed over them all.

“Prisoner is being locked up again and the crowd seems to be clearing,” he informed them.

As if remembering his duties Athos scanned the courtyard and nodded.

“You two get d’Artagnan back to the garrison. I need to stay here and sort out this mess.”

Aramis and Porthos waited outside as the physician and Captain Treville assessed and treated d’Artagnan. They both knew that he would be fine but they thought the lad might appreciate them waiting all the same. Aramis felt a little put-out considering his stitching skills were the best in Paris, even if he did say so himself, but Treville had been quite insistent about letting a professional do the work this time.

Porthos obviously noticed the frown on Aramis’ face because he was laughing.

“You’re not actually a doctor, you know what right? Just in your own head.”

“You ungrateful…” Aramis began with a gasp. “…how many times have I saved you? How many times have I stitched you up?”

“I can remember how many times you’ve knocked me out, is that the same thing?” Porthos asked with a glare which made Aramis cringe and decide to shut up. Then they both chuckled just before the doctor opened and Treville emerged.

“The doctor was able to clean the wound deeply, so it shouldn’t fester. He’ll have two nice scars, a sore shoulder and a story to tell but hopefully not much more than that. You can go and see him if you like. Remind him that he needs to rest.”

They both nodded and walked past Treville, waiting for the physician to finish packing up his tools before he left them as well. D’Artagnan was sitting up with a smile on his face as he watched them approach, his shoulder wrapped up in neat white bandages.

“First time I‘ve been shot on duty! I’ll remember this one,” he said, almost in glee. Aramis could see Porthos rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“It’s not something to be proud about, d’Artagnan. The aim is always _not_ to get shot.”

“Yes I know but I’ll recover soon enough.”

“A little bit over to the left and you wouldn’t be sitting here right now,” Porthos reminded him, playing the part of concerned parent very well.

D’Artagnan sighed and nodded, clearly starting to accept the fact the Porthos wasn’t as excited about his adventure as he was. Aramis decided to keep quiet because he knew when his words weren’t going to be helpful.

“Where’s Athos?” d’Artganan asked and it suddenly occurred to Aramis that Athos actually hadn’t reappeared since they’d left him at the courtyard.

“He’s dealing with the aftermath,” Aramis informed him and made a mental note to go off and search for Athos as soon as they had finished visiting d’Artagnan. No doubt he was in full-on self-blame mode by now.

“You know the first shot missed me but I was fighting someone with my sword so I couldn’t do anything about it. Then the second shot got me in the shoulder but that time I managed to get to him before he reloaded again.”

Porthos sat himself down on the bed and looked fondly at the boy.

“You did a good job. We all came out alive and the prisoner wasn’t taken. I consider that a semi-successful mission.”

“And you did need to start catching-up with the scars,” Aramis pointed out. “Women love men that look brave and heroic. You can’t allow Porthos and I get all of the attention.”

D’Artagnan grinned.

After convincing d’Artagnan that even heroes need sleep, Aramis left Porthos to inform Constance and went off himself to search for Athos. He couldn’t find him in the garrison but managed to catch Treville just before the man disappeared back into his office.

“Captain, have you seen Athos?” Aramis asked which made Treville stop and turn to him.

“Yes, he came back to report to me. I think he said he was going to retire for the night.”

Drink more like, Aramis thought but didn’t say that out loud. He nodded his thanks to Treville and went off to search the taverns. It didn’t exactly take him long to find Athos. He was sitting in the corner, downing wine like his life depended on it. He barely looked up when Aramis removed his hat and sat on a chair opposite.

“Are you not going to visit, d’Artagnan?” Aramis asked. He didn’t meant to sound unkind but he was just concerned. He knew how much the lad meant to Athos, although he also suspected that’s why Athos was in self-loathing mode.

“Leave me alone, Aramis,” came the reply from underneath the hat.

Aramis sighed. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, knowing that Athos wasn’t going to believe him but he had to say it all the same.

The hat raised up slightly and Athos looked at him. No, stared at him. Stared in a way that made Aramis feel slightly uncomfortable.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” came the next words from the drunk man’s mouth. Aramis sat back and looked confused.

“What?” was all he managed to say but it actually summed up what he wanted to say quite well.

“Inside the garrison and on duties fine, but nothing apart from that.”

Aramis felt baffled. What had d’Artagnan getting hurt have to do with them? Was Athos suddenly worried about Aramis getting hurt too? But none of this could have been news to Athos because he knew exactly what being a Musketeer involved. No, Aramis thought, no. Whatever the reason you aren’t doing this, you aren’t breaking up with me.

“Why?” he asked, realising that he was saying nothing but one-word questions but his mind wasn’t allowing him any more words than that and, anyway, he needed to know.

“I don’t need to give you a reason,” Athos snapped and then pushed his chair back and got up. Picking up a half-drunk wine bottle he started staggering out of the tavern.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I thought I'd give my beta reader a break over Christmas so forgive me for any mistakes!]

Now hold on, Aramis thought and, deciding that he deserved a reason, he got up, put his hat back on and went after Athos. Not wanting to make a scene in the middle of a busy street Aramis lingered back for a while, somewhat fascinated by the impressive speed in which Athos was stumbling along. Athos did accidentally fall into a market stall but eventually re-emerged unharmed.

Aramis decided to make his move once Athos had walked down a quiet alleyway and reached the bottom of the steps which led to his quarters.

“I want to know the reason,” he demanded when he was close enough that he didn’t need to shout. Athos ignored him and staggered up the staircase.

“Athos!” he called but he was still ignored. So he went up the steps as well, two at a time. He finally caught up with Athos whilst the drunken man was attempting to put his key into the door and doing a ridiculously bad job of it.

“Athos,” Aramis said again but this time with less annoyance and more concern. He reached out and grabbed Athos’ arm, stilling his attempts at opening the door. “Talk to me, please.”

Athos turned his head slowly and those eyes, the dark angry eyes which had made Aramis feel so uncomfortable in the tavern were still there even though Aramis had a feeling that the anger wasn’t aimed at him but it was pointing inside.

“We have to stop,” Athos said which didn’t do much to explain anything at all.

“But why?” Aramis asked and then cursed himself. Wasn’t this what he wanted? He was going to break up with Athos just that morning and now…now he was close to begging Athos to change his mind.

“Because I let my emotions get the better of me,” the man mumbled, so quietly that Aramis only just heard the words. Not that the words made any sense.

“What…why did you?” Aramis asked because he couldn’t understand.

“I saw you in danger and I left d’Artagnan to rescue you,” Athos blurted out loudly as he pulled his arm away from Aramis which forced Aramis to let go. “I knew Porthos was there, but I put you first and then d’Artagnan was shot. He was shot, Aramis. We can’t carry on. You understand don’t you?”

He was looking at Aramis and waiting for a reaction. Only Aramis didn’t know how to react. So Athos sighed, took a quick swig from his wine bottle and then attempted to put the key back into the door. This time he was more successful and Aramis stood there frozen as Athos disappeared into his quarters and the door slammed shut.

Aramis found himself lifting up his arm to knock on the door but then he stopped himself. This was what he had wanted after all.

With a defeated sigh he turned slowly and started walking away, back down the steps but a figure at the bottom made him stop in his tracks.

“Porthos?”

The big man looked at him warmly, “What you doing sneaking around?”

“I’m not sneaking around,” Aramis said adamantly. “Athos went to bed. Why are you sneaking around?”

“I’m not sneaking around,” Porthos insisted. “I came to check that you found him.”

Aramis eyed him suspiciously but then decided to let it slide. Porthos wasn’t the one keeping secrets after all. Aramis walked past him and started heading home but Porthos followed.

“He’s blaming himself then?” Porthos asked.

“Of course,” Aramis said, he wasn’t going to refuse the company of his dear friend, however tired and upset he felt. “You know him. He’ll get over it though…I hope.”

Porthos nodded as he walked beside him, following Aramis. Silence lingered between the pair of them for a while until Porthos finally spoke.

“He will get over it. Don’t you worry, okay?”

“I’m not worried,” Aramis said quite adamantly, looking at Porthos who was eyeing him up suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Porthos offered a little shrug. “Just checking you’re alright.”

“Of course I’m alright. Why wouldn’t I be alright?” Aramis huffed and started walking faster, suddenly having Porthos’ company felt less attractive. He just wanted to be by himself but Porthos managed to keep up.

“You know what Athos can be like when he’s in that mood,” Porthos continued. “He doesn’t always mean the things he says.”

Aramis skidded to a halt in the mud. He turned to look at Porthos and, whilst on the inside he panicked, on the outside he tried to show no sign of it.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, trying to sound curious and hide the fact his heart was beating a hundred times a second. Had Porthos heard the conversation?

“Because I thought you might need to hear it,” Porthos said and started walking backwards. Then he turned and left.

Aramis moved to follow him but then thought better of it. Aramis hadn’t meant for Porthos to find out. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. It was all his fault. If only he had stopped it earlier on, if only he hadn’t kissed him. Athos didn’t want to see him, d’Artagnan had been shot, everything had gone horribly wrong and yet d’Artagnan would recover and Athos would be riddled with guilt for a while but eventually move on from it and find himself a nice lady. That was exactly what Aramis had wanted…so why was his chest heaving and his eyes threating to spill tears?

\---------------------------------

Aramis groaned when he heard the first cockerel crowing early in the morning because he had barely slept. He really didn’t feel like facing the day so he briefly wondered if he could get away with not appearing at the garrison at all but then he remembered d’Artagnan. Aramis knew full-well how frustrating and boring it was to be injured, so he decided that the least he could do was go and visit the young Musketeer.

So, perhaps a little later than he had actually intended, he turned up at d’Artagnan’s room and found Porthos there already, playing nurse and also giving d’Artagnan some very important advice.

“Now, what will happen next is that Athos will appear soon, he’ll stand at the end of the bed and he’ll apologise for allowing you to get shot.”

D’Artagnan immediately frowned. “But it wasn’t Athos’ fault that…”

Porthos raised his hand to silence him. “I know but he’ll think it is.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” d’Artagnan insisted which made Porthos nod.

“That it is but it’s just how it works. What you need to do is not argue with him. Just nod, thank him and accept his apology.”

“I won’t,” d’Artagnan said stubbornly, trying to fold his arms across his chest until a twinge of pain from his shoulder obviously stopped him because he flinched and lowered his arms back down by his sides. “I won’t let him blame himself for this.”

“You might not let him,” Porthos said, now growling a little as he tried to make d’Artagnan understand. “…but he’ll do it anyway. Trust me, it’s just better just to let him apologise. Aramis and I have been through this before.”

Porthos looked over at Aramis and Aramis realised that he was expected to do something so he just nodded. D’Artagnan looked between them both and sighed. Aramis didn’t want to see Athos, not in that moment. He was grateful to Porthos for reminding him of the way it always worked when someone was injured because it gave him a chance to escape.

He turned to leave the room when the door opened before he could get to it and Athos came in. With his hand lingering on the door-handle he stared at Aramis for a while and Aramis stared back. He found himself desperately searching Athos’ eyes for signs of what the man was thinking. He was partly certain that he saw a bit of guilt flickering there before Athos tore his eyes away and continued walking into the room to stand at the end of the bed.

“D’Artagnan, I have come to apologise for the fact you were injured…”

Aramis couldn’t listen to Athos apologise to someone else so he left the room and almost walked right into Treville who was strolling down the corridor outside.

“Aramis, I thought you might all be here. Are the others in the room?”

Aramis nodded.

“Good,” Treville said. “I need two of you to do a quick errand for me.”

Aramis attempted to not sigh because he knew that Treville wouldn’t appreciate a sigh. So he racked his brain quickly to come up with an idea as he absolutely did not want to do an errand with Athos that day.

“I’m sure Athos and Porthos can assist you. I’m afraid that I feel a little unwell.”

Treville's expression changed and he suddenly looked concern.

“Go back to your quarters and rest then, lad. I’ll send someone to check on you later.”

Aramis nodded his thanks and left. He brought himself a bottle of cheap red wine on his journey home, the answer to every problem when he didn’t have the energy to find a woman. In fact he had no energy at all. He just wanted to sleep and forget about the bad decisions which he had made. The ones which may have potentially ruined his friendship with Athos. He took the wine back to his quarters and drank the whole thing on his bed until he fell back to sleep.

“What are you doing?!” came the booming voice which woke him up. He groaned and attempted to move but it hurt, everything felt heavy and his stomach was churning something unpleasant. Somehow he managed to force his eyes open and squint up at the body looming over him imposingly, until he realised it was Porthos and suddenly it felt far less imposing.

One day he needed to remember to lock his door.

“You’re not sick, you're heartbroken. Those two are different things.”

Porthos had his hands on his hips. He also had his entire riding uniform on which Aramis suspected meant that either he was about to go out on the errand or he had just come back. Aramis closed his eyes because having them open hurt his brain.

“I’m not heart…”

“Oh let’s stop with the crap,” Porthos said. “I heard what Athos said to you last night and it just confirmed what I already suspected.” Aramis felt the bed rock as Porthos sat himself down on it. “You two are my brothers, my family, you didn’t have to keep it from me. Were you worried ‘bout how I’d react?”

Aramis sighed and swung his arm over to cover his face, still not able to look at Porthos again because his head was pounding. “To be honest, my friend…” he said, pausing to swallow, his throat felt dry. “…I hadn’t really given it much thought.”

He felt a large hand on his leg, giving it a squeeze. “You never do. But I know sometimes that men love other men. I discovered that at a very young age when I walked in on…well that doesn’t matter. What I mean is, it doesn’t make me think any differently about either of you. It just makes me worry to be honest.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Aramis assured him, finally removing the arm and testing his eyes again. “I can assure you that it finished before it really began.” Porthos eventually came into focus and Aramis’ chest swelled at the concerned look on Porthos’ face. Aramis decided to explain because he owed Porthos that much. “I only wished to help him gain confidence again and remember how to be romantic. I wasn’t actually intending to…well…things got a little out-of-hand. I was going to put a stop to it but Athos stepped in and stopped it of his own accord. I couldn’t have wished for a better solution to the problem.”

“Really?” Porthos asked, tilting his head a little. “Is that why you’re lying here moping about?”

“I’m not moping about,” Aramis insisted and, in an attempt to prove that to his friend, he tried to sit himself out. Except that was a very bad idea because the room immediately started to spin around and the unpleasant thing in his stomach was suddenly threatening to appear. A steady hand was soon against his shoulder.

“You’ve been drinking, I can smell it,” Porthos asked somewhat accusingly. “You gonna be sick?”

“No I’m not going to be sick,” Aramis insisted although he wasn’t entirely sure. Still the hand left his shoulder so Porthos was obviously convinced.

“So you don’t have feelings for him?” Porthos asked. Aramis looked at him, it actually seemed to help focusing on one object.

“Hmm?”

“Athos,” Porthos said with an eye-roll. “You don’t have feelings for him? You were just doing it all to help him?”

“Yes,” Aramis said quite adamantly.

Porthos nodded slowly. “Well that’s good then. So nothing really happened?”

Aramis’ head hurt too much for the conversation. He was finding it difficult to even think let alone answer questions but he didn’t have much choice with Porthos sitting right on the bed.

“No, nothing really happened. Just a kiss…or two.”

That piece of information appeared to be amusing to Porthos because he started smiling and the smile didn’t disappear as he continued his interrogation.

“But you didn’t want to kiss him?”

Aramis paused because the reality of the situation was that he had started the kiss both times really, not Athos, even though he had never intended to kiss Athos. The first time he was helping Athos and the second time it just sort of happened.

Obviously Aramis was taking too long to come up with an answer because the next thing he knew he had leather covered fingers in his hair tugging on his curls affectionately as Porthos sighed, “Oh, Aramis.”

Aramis had no-idea what the sigh meant but there was blissful silence for a couple of minutes as Porthos stroked Aramis’ hair and Aramis let him, still feeling as rough as dogs. Eventually even sitting up felt a bit too much and Aramis sank back down onto the bed and nuzzled his cheek into his pillow.

“Come round to mine once it gets dark,” Porthos said after a while as he removed his fingers. “We can play some cards. Just the two of us. It’ll get your mind off things.”

“You always cheat,” Aramis muttered into the pillow which seemed to make Porthos laugh as he got up from the bed.

“And yet you still sometimes beat me, so I must be bad at it, huh?”

Aramis sort of grunted which was his attempt at agreeing to the invite. Porthos was right after all, he needed a distraction from it all.

After sleeping some more and waking up feeling much better for it, wondering how Athos managed to drink twice as much and still appear fit for duty the following morning, Aramis got dressed and headed over to Porthos’ room.

He could see candles flickering from the window so he knew that Porthos was in. He knocked loudly and Porthos opened the door with a smile.

“Hey, you look a bit better. Come on in.”

Aramis stepped inside and immediately froze. Porthos wasn’t alone, Athos was sitting in a wooden chair in front of the small table beside the fire-place with cards in his hand. Athos slowly rose from the chair, staring at Aramis like he’d seen a ghost. Aramis stared back utterly mystified. It wasn’t until he realised that Porthos had moved to stand in the door-way that it started to sink in what had happened. Before he had the chance to do anything the door slammed shut and the click of the key sounded.

“Porthos!” Aramis yelled and immediately went over to the door, hammering his fists against it.

“You’re not coming out until you’ve sorted it out!” He heard Porthos shout from the other side. “I’m off to the tavern so you’ve got lots of time!”

“Porthos! You scoundrel!!” Aramis hit the door a few more times but the door didn’t open. He slid his fists down the door and dropped them by his sides, turning slowly to see that Athos hadn’t moved from the spot where he was standing.


	7. Chapter 7

Athos looked about as uncomfortable as Aramis felt.

“We could climb out of the window and hope for the best?” Aramis offered, pointing at the window to assist his suggestion. Athos didn’t say anything.

“I could try shooting the door?”

Athos still didn’t speak or move. Aramis reached for his pistol which was attached to his belt but then he stilled his hand. Porthos probably wouldn’t appreciate a hole in his door.

“Or we could just play cards until…”

Before Aramis had the chance to finish his third suggestion, Athos finally spoke and it surprised Aramis so much that it made him stop talking immediately.

“The Captain said that you were unwell.”

Aramis, baffled by the calmness of the statement and the concern behind it, nodded a little. Unwell…drunk…same thing. “I had a headache,” he lied.

“Then you should sit down,” Athos said and waved his hand towards the bed. If they were going to be locked in the room for a while sitting down seemed like a sensible idea, so Aramis removed his weapons and hat and placed them carefully against the wall before going over to the bed and settling down onto it. What Porthos’ bed lacked in blankets, it certainly made up for in size.

From there he watched as Athos slowly lowered himself back into the chair, a defeated sigh coming from his mouth. Athos doesn’t want to be here, Aramis realised. The thought made him feel incredibly sad. How had they gone from laughing in each other’s company to this?

Aramis found himself lost for words and he just stared down at his fingers for a while, locking them together, examining the healing grazes he had received from his sparring session with Porthos a couple of days before. What was there to say? Athos had made his choice and Aramis knew it was for the best.

“I assume Porthos knows?” Athos asked when he finally spoke a couple of minutes later.

Aramis looked up and, feeling quite adamant that he wasn’t going to give Athos more reasons to be angry, he decided to explain. “I didn’t tell him. He overheard us last night outside your room.”

Athos nodded and, not for the first time, Aramis wished that he could tell what Athos was thinking.

“It was inevitable I suppose,” Athos said after another long pause. “Porthos would have found out eventually if we had carried on.”

Aramis nodded. Porthos may not know about the royal baby but he had already been suspicious about Aramis and Athos. He would have figured it out by himself.

Aramis couldn’t stand silence and he couldn’t just continue sitting there with the long pauses and lingering awkwardness. So he stood up and started to remove his belts and coat, because it at least kept his body busy for a couple of minutes. He hung his coat up on a hook beside the door and glanced at Athos. Athos was watching him from the chair. Something was bubbling up inside of Aramis and he found himself unable to keep silent any longer.

“I don’t know what Porthos is expecting us to talk about,” Aramis admitted as he continued to stand by the door. “You want it to be over, I’m relieved it’s over. There, we’ve sorted it. I wish he’d let us out now.”

Athos raised an eyebrow. “You’re relieved it’s over?”

Damn, Aramis thought. That wasn’t the word he should have used. It wasn’t true either. Relief wasn’t the emotion he was feeling only he couldn’t put his finger on what was.

“No,” he shook his head quickly. “I do not mean that.” With a sigh he walked back over to the bed and sat himself back down onto it. “I mean…I don’t know what I mean. I mean it’s a good thing that you finished it. It was a crazy idea. You’re a man and I’m a man and we’re both Musketeers. Desperate fumbles in the forest between two soldiers is one thing, a relationship with a man…well that’s quite something else.”

Aramis knew that he was trying to justify why finishing things was best for everyone. He just wasn’t sure why it felt like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. But he stopped because it was Athos’ turn to speak. Except Athos didn’t speak or react at all. He was just watching from the chair, three cards still in his hand. Aramis found himself feeling more and more frustrated with the ongoing silence so further words started tumbling out of his mouth.

“We would have been forever sneaking around and worrying about people finding out. I would have had to still seduce women to stop people from being suspicious which would have made you jealous. Or at least I think you would have been jealous but who knows with you because I never know what you’re thinking, which is endlessly annoying. And yes, maybe it would change things on the battlefield. Maybe you’d worry about me more, although I actually think you worry about all of us all of the time regardless and you would have run off to save any one of us if you’d seen us in trouble.” He paused when he it dawned on him that his efforts at explaining why ending things was a good idea was turning into trying to reassure Athos of the opposite so he decided to finish things with… “Anyway, I only would have broken your heart. You deserve better than me.”

There, definitely over. He had made his feelings quite clear and yet it wasn’t making him feel any better. It was just making him feel depressed but why? This was what he wanted!

“Have you quite finished?” Athos asked and, just hearing his voice, soothed Aramis in a way that he didn’t quite understand but the muddled thoughts stop whirling around in his head and nothing else wanted to come out.

Athos put his cards down onto the table, got up and walked over to the bed. Aramis lifted his head and watched him come over, shifting across on the bed a little as Athos moved to sit down beside him. Athos was looking at him, really looking at him.

“Do you really believe all of that?” Athos asked evenly.

“I…yes,” Aramis said but the way the words had made his chest feel tight caused him to question if that was entirely true.

“You really think you would have broken my heart?”

Aramis shrugged a little. He had endless flings and affairs but nothing ever seemed to last. Clearly he was pretty awful with relationships, if they could even be called relationships.

“Listen to me, Aramis,” Athos ordered softly. “In all the time I’ve known you it seems to me that it is usually _your_ heart which ends up broken.”

Having Athos sitting so near made a shiver go down the back of Aramis’ spine. He itched to get closer but he found himself not needing to move because Athos was slowly lifting his arm and then placing his warm fingers against Aramis’ cheek. Aramis pressed his face against the hand without meaning to. Athos was looking right at him, he wasn’t averting his gaze like he often did when he was feeling awkward. He still was staring right into his eyes.

“Never, ever think that you don’t deserve me. Never think that you don’t deserve anyone. Do you understand?”

Aramis nodded a little, not really understanding but not wishing to argue with Athos either, especially now that the man had finally found his voice. Athos moved forward and Aramis suddenly trembled with desperate need, wishing to be even closer. Athos’ face was coming towards his and Aramis closed his eyes in anxious anticipation but, instead of lips, he found Athos’ forehead being pressed against his own and there they sat, foreheads touching, so close that he could feel Athos’ warm breath against his face.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Athos whisper and then gentle lips were pressed against his forehead and Athos slowly moved away, removing his face and his hand. Aramis found himself making a whimpering noise because he didn’t want Athos to leave. Only Athos did and Aramis couldn’t speak fast enough to stop him.

Athos got up and walked over to the window. He undid the latch and peered down at the alleyway below.

“Do you think we would injury ourselves if we jumped?”

Aramis didn’t respond at first, he was still mourning the loss of contact. But the cold night air which suddenly entered the room brought him back to his senses and he eventually shrugged before replying back in good humour.

“I don’t know why you think I’m an expert in such things.”

The comment made Athos smile a little from the window. Aramis sighed and got up, walking over to stand beside Athos where he also peered down at the street below.

“We could potentially break our legs,” Aramis warned, it was quite a long way down and there wasn’t anything soft to land on. He stood up straight again and watched Athos who was still examining the distance. “And you mocked me back when I suggested that having an easy escape route should always be the priority when looking for lodgings.”

Athos finally stopped leaning out of the window and snorted. “Neither Porthos or myself need escape routes as often as you do,” he pointed out teasingly.

Aramis smiled because Athos was being mean to him again. Things were starting to feel normal.

“I could lower you down with a bed-sheet if you’re that desperate to escape?” Aramis offered. The idea was partly ridiculous but Athos did seem to be keen to leave. Only the suggestion seemed to offend Athos and the man slammed the window shut which made Aramis jump.

“I’m not desperate to escape,” Athos pointed out. “Please don’t think that.”

Aramis nodded and things suddenly felt awkward again. Aramis went back over to the bed and sat down. He wanted to curl up underneath the covers and make the world go away. He really was starting to get a headache. He rubbed at the side of his temples slowly and closed his eyes, hoping that it would help the building tension in his skull disappear.

It wasn’t long before he felt something touching his back. It startled him at first. He opened his eyes and discovered that Athos was sitting beside him. Aramis smiled and closed his eyes again, continuing to hold his sore head as Athos’ hand moved, rubbing soothing circles onto his back.

“Thank you,” Aramis said, realising once again what an absolute gentleman Athos was. He decided to let Athos know. “Whoever you eventually end up with will be very lucky.”

Obviously he hadn’t said the right thing again because the hand disappeared and a mumble of ‘God you’re infuriating,’ came from his friend.

Aramis opened his eyes and stared at Athos, wondering where that comment had come from. Athos was looking away, over across the other side of the room although he hadn’t moved from the bed. Aramis suddenly felt annoyed.

“I’m infuriating?!” he quizzed. “I never know what you’re thinking. That’s infuriating!”

Athos’ face snapped back and he glared at Aramis. “I wrote you that letter!” he pointed out.

“One letter doesn’t count, Athos!” Aramis growled.

“I’ve been trying!” Athos said and got up off the bed, standing in front of it, obviously too angry to stay sitting down calmly. “I’ve been trying to show you. I haven’t done this in a very long time.”

Aramis suddenly felt a tinge of sympathy because he knew that Athos hadn’t. Perhaps he was being unkind. Yet Athos clearly hadn’t finished.

“Why do you think that I’ll be better off with someone else?”

“Because you will,” Aramis mumbled. He didn’t feel angry anymore, just exhausted by the whole thing.

“Why?” Athos asked. “Because you’re a man?”

“No, because I’m me.”

“Yes,” Athos dropped down to his knees in front of Aramis. The action startled Aramis for a moment yet he automatically opened up his legs a little as Athos came forward and reached up, holding Aramis’ face firmly in his hands so Aramis couldn’t do anything but look right at him. “The most beautiful, brave, kind, generous and the most infuriating man I have ever met.”

Aramis wanted to cry. Athos was being so honest and yet Aramis had done nothing but lie to the man right from the start and he was still lying now. Athos didn’t deserve that. He deserved honestly about everything. He needed to tell Athos the truth and that really would end things once and for all. He found tears filling his eyes as he looked at Athos and he hated himself to the very core of his being but he needed to finally say it.

“I only went along with the courting to help you,” Aramis admitted, his voice sounding weaker than he had intended but he needed to solider on. He had started now, he had to finish it. “I wanted to build up your confidence and teach you how to be romantic again. I was planning to break it off with you eventually so you’d go and find someone else. I’m sorry, Athos, it was a stupid idea.”

The hands on his face remained but the expression on Athos’ changed. In his eyes he looked surprised but his body stayed frozen. Aramis felt truly awful. He had just broken the man’s heart but at least he had been honest. Athos may never speak to him ever again but at least there would be no more secrets between them. Only Athos didn’t seem to want to let go and he eventually raised a curious eyebrow.

“So…the kissing?” he asked and the question made Aramis pause because the kissing had been the thing which he couldn’t quite explain himself.

“I thought it would help,” he offered. “I didn’t realise that I’d find it quite so…overwhelming.”

Athos lowered his hands. This was it then. This was the end of it all. Yet the hands only moved to his legs and there they remained, resting on Aramis’ thighs.

“Aramis…” Athos said so painfully tenderly, far more so than Aramis deserved. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

The question was a surprise and Aramis paused for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“Aramis,” Athos said his name again to get his attention. “Did you enjoy kissing me?”

When Aramis blinked a tear trickled out of the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek and he silently cursed himself for being such a baby. Why was he crying? He thought about the second kiss. He thought about how it made him tingle and left him breathless. He thought about how it made him want more and he found himself unable to lie.

“Yes.”

There was another awkward pause as Athos seemed to be examining his face, searching for something although Aramis wasn’t sure what.  

“Then allow me show you…” Athos said, so softly that it was almost a whisper. He was moving closer, pushing himself up onto his knees and sliding forward. “…how beautiful you really are.”

Before Aramis knew what was happened there was a hand on the back of his neck pulling him forward and lips were pressing lightly against his own. This time it was tender, Athos’ lips were barely touching his, just gently stroking until Aramis opened his mouth and found himself moaning. When he felt a curious tongue exploring he pressed his own against it and then his moans grew even louder.

Soon he was being pushed backwards onto the bed until he was lying on the mattress. He went along with it all, his body completely obeying Athos without question. He wanted to do whatever he had to do in order not to break the kiss.

He was lost, completely lost, so utterly overwhelmed that he didn’t even notice the warm fingers on his stomach for a while. Once he finally felt them he realised that Athos must have slipped his hand underneath his shirt. It felt funny having Athos touch him there, it felt nice. He pushed his hips up a little, wanting Athos to touch him more but the hand moved away and Aramis whimpered at the loss. The whimper was caught by a hot mouth still gently devouring his own.

Then he felt something loosen, the buttons of his breeches and ties of his braies were being undone by skillful hands. The action of being undressed and exposed felt ridiculously arousing and he tried to lift his head up to kiss the mouth more passionately, Athos being so gentle was starting to drive him mad. Athos must have noticed his urgent change of desire because soon bruising lips were pressing furiously against his mouth and wet tongues were dueling together desperately.

Aramis had to eventually pull away to drop his head and pant as he had no air left in his lungs. That’s when he realised that warm fingers were wrapping around his cock. His body suddenly spasmed at the touch, he was already getting hard and the fingers felt incredible. He let out a loud sinful groan just as a tender kiss was pressed against his ear.

“I don’t want anyone else,” the warm voice whispered. “I want you.”

The words made Aramis whimper. Yes, yes he wanted Athos too. He wanted Athos so badly. Athos’ fingers started stroking up and down and Aramis, with his feet still on the floor, unashamedly started thrusting his hips as he groaned. Then he reached up and grabbed onto Athos’ arm, desperately needing something to grip onto. He could feel the muscles in Athos’ arm contract and relax as he continued to stroke.

Aramis’ eyes were half-open now but everything was a blur. He was panting and gasping, the fingers speeding up on his cock. Heat was already rushing to his groin and he could hear Athos continue to whisper into his ear.

“You like this,” Athos was saying. “Don’t be ashamed.”

He tried to turn his head. He didn’t just want words, he wanted the mouth again. No, he needed the mouth to ground him before he floated off the bed. He moaned for a moment when he couldn’t find it but then there it was again, the lips, pressing firmly against his own, kissing him passionately. He kissed back to the best of his ability but the pumping fist on his cock was making his body shake with need. That’s when the realisation hit him that a man was getting him off and he was loving every second of it and not just any man…it was Athos.

When his arse started to tense he had to pull back from the kiss once more. His back muscles were tightening also and he knew that he was close. His fingers dug into Athos’ arm but the man didn’t stop, his fist continued to pump furiously as Aramis groaned louder and louder, whimpering the name ‘Athos’ out into the room.

“I’m here, let go,” he heard Athos say seconds before he came. He cried out when the rush of his orgasm washed over him and he explode all over Athos’ hand and his own shirt again and again until his body had nothing left to give. And then he lay gasping on the bed as the aftershocks of the orgasm tingled pleasantly through him.

Once his eyes came back into focus and he had enough air in his lungs to properly breathe, he sighed.

“We really are useless at ending things,” he pointed out and heard an amused snort from Athos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Author's notes - I was only going to make this a short story but now I'm thinking...how would d'Artagnan react if he knew? What would happen if Treville caught them kissing? So I'm going to carry on with it for a while if you don't mind.]


	8. Chapter 8

Aramis wasn’t in a rush to move but, if there was one thing he enjoyed just as much as sex, it was what happened afterwards. The gentle stroking, dazed whispers and the contented cuddling. He pondered if Athos was a cuddlier before quickly realising something else.

“Do you need me to take care of you?” he asked as he turned his head and looked at Athos who was still lying on the bed beside him.

Athos shook his head a little. “No, I’m fine.”

It made no sense to Aramis and he found himself frowning. Had that not excited Athos? Did he not need his own release?

“I think I’ve scandalised you enough for one night,” Athos added, obviously as a reaction to the frown. The comment made Aramis chuckle despite himself. He wasn’t going to push it, not this time. There would be other opportunities for Aramis to show off his skills to Athos. Wait…why was he thinking that way? This hadn’t really changed anything, had it?

“I’ll get you a new shirt,” Athos mumbled and pressed a kiss against Aramis’ cheek as Aramis continued to lie on his back, still not having moved since his orgasm. He sighed as Athos clambered off the bed and disappeared somewhere. Surely this changed things? It would be silly to think otherwise.

He slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows and watched as Athos searched the room. Porthos wasn’t the tidiest of men but thankfully he didn’t own very much so it wasn’t long before Athos discovered his spare shirts.

“What does this mean?” Aramis asked, needing some clarity.

“Whatever we want it to mean,” The back of Athos said before he turned around and came back to the bed with the shirt. He held it out to Aramis. Aramis had to sit himself up properly. He tugged off his braces and pulled his own shirt off over his head. Athos let the clean shirt drop onto his lap and Aramis slipped it on. It was far too big but at least it was warm. Athos appeared to wipe his hand on the dirty shirt before disregarding it on the floor close to where Aramis had left his sword.

Then Athos carefully relit one of the candles which had obviously gone out when he had opened the window. Athos didn’t seem like the cuddling type then.

“And what do we want it to mean?” Aramis queried, as he tucked himself back in and tied-up his breeches.

“Well I don’t know, Aramis, the ‘we’ in that statement rather implies that you are entitled to your own thoughts.”

Aramis accidentally let out an irritated sigh which he immediately felt a little guilty for. Aramis needed to be patient with Athos even though patience wasn’t one of his strengths.

“Come here,” Aramis insisted and held his hand out. If Athos was going to be exasperating again, he could at least be exasperating whilst they were holding each other.

Athos hesitated but then did take his hand and Aramis managed to tug him onto the bed. He manoeuvred Athos into a comfortable position against the pillows and then leaned against him, curling up against his side. Aramis wrapped his arm around Athos’ waist and rested his head against the man’s shoulder. He had only just noticed that Athos still had half of his uniform on, including his boots and scarf, but he decided to just leave that be for the moment. There were more important matters to deal with.

“Athos, pretend you’re writing me a letter. What would you say?”

There was silence for a while until Athos eventually spoke.

“Dear Aramis, I hope you are not finding the weather too chilly for your liking as I know you feel the cold. I would advise that you invest in some extra thick blankets as I have a feeling this winter is going to be a bad one.” Aramis could tell that Athos was teasing so he gave Athos a friendly poke in the ribs. However Athos’ tone turned more serious as he continued. “Thank you for respecting my wishes before but I have to be honest and admit that I may have changed my mind. I don’t want this to end.”

Aramis smiled. It was a smile of relief that made him realise that, yes, he didn’t want it to end either. Whatever ‘it’ was he was still a little unsure, but he didn’t want ‘it’ to stop.

“…Yours respectfully, Athos.”

“That was a very short letter,” Aramis mocked, masking the fact he felt so happy that he was finding it difficult to keep still. He wanted to jump for joy.

“Well, it’s rather difficult writing a letter with a grown man wrapped around my body.”

“Good excuse,” Aramis said and lifted his head to give Athos a kiss. Then Athos smiled and Aramis realised how utterly wonderful Athos looked when he smiled. He wanted to make him smile all of the time. A secret soft smile that he only privately gave to Aramis.

“It was a lovely letter, I especially liked the last part,” Aramis reassured him and wrapped his arm that little bit tighter. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed being with Athos until he felt his leg being kicked. He groaned, his head thick with sleep.

“The talk went well then?” Someone was asking. Aramis felt groggy and couldn’t move. The body against his own felt cosy and warm. He must have fallen asleep.

“Something like that.” That was Athos. Aramis knew that was Athos because the voice spoke right beside his ear. It made him smile having Athos so close but he kept his eyes closed as he pretended to stay asleep.

Porthos sniffed. “Get off my bed.”

“I’m not sure I can move, Porthos.”

“Urgh,” came the irritated noise from Porthos but he made no further action to kick them out. In fact Aramis just felt the bed rock a couple of minutes later as another body joined them.

“Just this once,” Porthos said as he made himself comfortable beside them and settled down to sleep. Things were quiet for a moment before Porthos spoke again. “Is he wearing my shirt?!”

When they all woke up the following morning Aramis felt like he was drunk. Every time he looked at Athos he felt funny and each time they caught each other’s eyes he couldn’t help but smile. He wanted to hold him and kiss him but he wasn’t entirely sure Porthos would appreciate such a display of affection in front of him, despite his understanding of their feelings, so Aramis refrained, barely.

After they were all fully dressed with Aramis still ‘borrowing’ Porthos’ shirt, they went to head out. They needed to pay d’Artagnan a visit before they went to find Treville. Porthos grabbed Aramis’ shoulder just as they left the room and made him wait for a moment as Athos continued to walk.

“Are things good?” he asked Aramis quietly. Aramis, appreciating how much Porthos cared, smiled at his friend.

“Very good,” he assured Porthos which made Porthos frown.

“I’m still worried,” Porthos admitted as he started to walk, pushing Aramis along with him. “But I’m happy for you.”

“I know, about both. But you needn’t worry.”

Porthos sighed but removed his hand. “When it comes to you two I always bloody worry.”  

A couple of days quickly passed by, full of running errands for the King. They were all so exhausted by the time dusk settled that they didn’t even go for a quick drink at the tavern, they just all collapsed into their own beds. Unfortunately this meant that Aramis was finding himself becoming increasingly frustrated. The urge he had to kiss Athos, which he now seemed to have permission to fulfil, unfortunately wasn’t being fulfilled because they were too tired.  

On the third day Aramis decided that he no longer cared. He would summon energy from somewhere as soon as they were free from their duty at court. He thought about it for the entire day as he stood in the palace and looking pretty for the King whilst some dignitaries came to pay their respects or, as Athos liked to call it, respectfully kiss the Kings’ arse.

Whilst standing there that day Aramis could barely keep his eyes off Athos, despite the fact Athos was ignoring him. In his head he found himself imagining what Athos would look like in bed underneath and above him. Naked and groaning. Thrusting and shivering and…he had to stop himself when he felt something twitching inside his breeches. His stares were rewarded momentarily however, just for a second, when Athos turned and gave Aramis a small smile. It was a smile he was able to treasure for the rest of the afternoon until they were finally dismissed from their duties.

Aramis felt so utterly desperate to get Athos alone that he almost dragged Athos back to the man’s own lodgings, no longer concerned about their tiredness. It made Porthos chuckled as he watched them go. Once they were inside Athos’ room and the door was shut, Aramis immediately pushed Athos against the door and kissed him passionately. He didn’t hold back at all, he just pinned Athos with his body and explored his mouth with his tongue.

He heard Athos moan a little before feeling strong hands reaching out to grab his hips. It just encouraged Aramis to go further and he started undressing Athos as his lips remained firmly moving against the wet mouth. First he undid the buckle of the belt and ignored the clanging noise it made when he dropped Athos’ sword to the ground. Then his fingers fumbled with the buttons, Athos had a lot of buttons. If felt like an age before he got them all undone.

They continued to undress each other as they moved towards Athos’ small bed. Aramis knew that it would be a squeeze both getting onto it and that was a challenge he was quite willing to face.

By the time they got to the bed Athos was already topless and had his breeches undone. Aramis was still fiddling about with his braces but eventually managed to shove them down and pull his own shirt off seconds before he was being thrown onto the bed. He fell backwards and smacked his head against the wall. He almost muttered a blasphemous word but it was Athos who looked far more shocked. He leaned over Aramis and quickly reached out, gently feeling the back of his head with tender fingers.

“I am so sorry,” Athos apologised, genuinely looking quite devastated.

“Don’t worry,” Aramis said, staring up at the man he was so unashamedly lusting after. “I quite like it when you’re like that.”

“Like what?” Athos queried as he removed his hand, satisfied that there wasn’t any blood.

“Forceful,” Aramis admitted, looking up at Athos for a reaction. Athos looked a little flustered and leaned forward, pushing Aramis to lie back onto the bed as Athos lowered his warm body down on top of him.

Aramis liked it. He liked Athos lying between his open legs and he liked feeling the warmth of his chest against his own. In fact he accidentally let out a contented sigh against Athos’ lips as they kissed again. It wasn’t long before the body above his was rubbing back and forth. It made Aramis automatically try to wrap a leg around Athos’ waist and arch his back, desperate for the friction on his groin. He didn’t understand it, it was so different from being a woman, but he loved it. Athos was all muscles, hair and passion. He loved feeling the hardness in Athos’ undergarments pressing against him. He wanted to feel it in his hand and taste it in his mouth.

He tried to push an arm between their grinding bodies. He wanted to undo Athos’ braies and explore. When Athos pulled his lips away Aramis immediately felt the loss but then teeth were biting down on his jaw and that just made Aramis groan even louder.

“You’re incredible,” he encouraged with a whisper. “This is incredible.”

He was vaguely aware of a noise coming from another part of the room but it wasn’t until the banging grew louder and Athos froze that Aramis realised someone was at the door. They both looked at each other confused for a moment until they heard the door start to squeak open. Athos flung himself off Aramis like he had been burnt. Aramis sat himself up as well but they weren’t quick enough, d’Artagnan walked in before they could do anything.

The young Musketeer, with the hand of his good arm still on the doorknob, stared at the pair of them for what felt like an age. Aramis found himself suddenly wishing that he could sink into the bed and disappear. D’Artagnan, however, was eyeing them both up and looking entirely confused.

“What are you doing?” he eventually asked after quite a long silence.

“What are _you_ doing?” Aramis asked back, deciding that it was quite a cleaver comeback considering he was sitting half-naked on a bed with a man who was also half-naked and they both probably had quite obvious lumps in their breeches.

D’Artagnan didn’t speak and he didn’t move either. He just continued to stand there looking a little lost with his arm in a sling, trying to process the whole situation.

“I…” he began, his face was starting to turn an interesting shade of crimson red. “…I think I’ve accidentally ripped a couple of stitches. I wanted to see if Athos was in to have a look.”

Now Aramis felt confused, why was Athos the right person for the job? But of course it was d’Artagnan and Aramis understood that d’Artangnan would come up with any excuse to spend time with Athos.

“I’m going to leave,” d’Artagnan eventually said when none of them had spoken any further. He turned, left the room and closed the door behind him. It was only then that Aramis heard Athos let out a breath that he’d obviously been holding in. Aramis turned to look at him. Athos looked utterly devastated.

“Don’t panic,” Aramis said, moving to twist slightly and place his hand on Athos’ chest to reassure him. “This is d’Artagnan. He won’t say anything to get us into trouble.”

“I know,” Athos said, still staring at the door. “But he won’t understand.”

Aramis gave a little shrug. He wasn’t so sure, d’Artagnan had constantly proved to them all that he wasn’t one to be underestimated.

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” Aramis said, still trying to help Athos calm down. He leaned up and kissed Athos on the jaw tenderly but Athos’ jaw felt stiff beneath his lips and Aramis knew that the mood had been ruined.

“And…” Athos continued to look in shock about the whole situation. “…we should have been more careful. We were careless.”

Aramis was about to protest but he found himself unable to. Athos was right, they did need to be more careful. Locking doors would be a good start. Still, he felt like it was his job to reassure Athos before the man had a panic attack.

“Well who else is going to come to your room?” Aramis pointed out. “It’s only ever Porthos and d’Artagnan. No-one else will ever catch us so stop worrying. We just need to remember to lock our doors.”

“I need to go and talk to him,” Athos said and started moving on the bed to get off. Before he really knew what he was doing he reached out and grabbed Athos by the arm. Athos stopped and looked down at the fingers gripping firmly and then looked up at Aramis.

“What?”

Aramis sighed. He realised that, if Athos didn’t understand, he was going to have to tell him. He cared about d’Artagnan as well but he had been waiting to have Athos alone for three days. The thought of Athos leaving him alone in the room was too much to bear.

“ _I_ need you, d’Artagnan can wait,” Aramis explained, hoping that Athos would understand that some reassurance was needed on his part as well. “Please.”

Athos’ expression actually softened and he lowed himself back down onto the bed.

“Of course,” he said and actually reached out to wrap his arms around Aramis to hold him. Aramis felt quite flabbergasted and wondered if, perhaps, Athos just required things to be explained to him sometimes. Aramis was quite tempted to try the ‘letter’ trick again but then decided it would probably start annoying Athos soon enough.

They held each other in silence for a while and Aramis started thinking. He actually had no-idea how d’Artagnan was going to react but he could think of one thing which might make it feel a little less frightening for Athos.

“We’re in this together,” he said quietly as Athos continued to hold him tightly. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right there with you.”

There was silence in the dark room for a while until Athos finally spoke and said, “Thank you.”

Aramis smiled and tilted his head to kiss Athos’ jaw again. He pressed his teeth gently into the skin until he heard Athos moan which encouraged Aramis to bite just that little bit harder. Athos seemed to groan even louder and Aramis was starting to feel aroused again. He pushed himself up and rolled on top of Athos who was sinking down onto the bed. Yes, now it’s my turn, Aramis thought to himself with a smile. His lack of experience with a man wasn’t going to stop him from showing off what skills he was quite the expert in.

So, with Athos splayed out beneath him on the bed, Aramis got to work. At first he just concentrated on Athos’ neck, kissing and sucking the skin beneath the stubble until he moved lower and spread kisses along Athos’ shoulder where he discovered the collar-bone.  He lightly scratched his teeth over it. With every movement he made he listened out for the noises coming from the man beneath him. He loved making people happy, he loved hearing them whimper and groan. Athos wasn’t disappointing him either, he was surprising vocal for a man usually so withdrawn.

Kissing Athos’ chest was so different to anything Aramis had ever done before. He stroked his fingers through the hairs and then found a nipple. He wiggled his tongue against it lightly and discovered that Athos was as sensitive there as some of the women he’d been with. In fact it made Athos whisper the word ‘Aramis’ into the darkness and Aramis was quite certain that it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

Yet impatience was starting to get the better of him and his curiosity was difficult to control. So he pushed himself up and straddled Athos’ legs before pulling at the tie of Athos’ braies. Then he pressed his thumbs against Athos’ hips beneath his clothes. Of course he had seen Athos naked before but not like this, not in such an intimate way. He looked up at Athos, seeking permission. Athos just gave Aramis a small nod and so he tugged down the clothes, Athos assisting a little by lifting up his hips.

Then he looked down, brazenly staring. Athos’ cock was hard and pointing up towards his stomach proudly. Suddenly Aramis felt a little lost, which was very unlike him. Hesitation in bed wasn’t something he was at all used to but he found himself so momentarily overwhelmed at sharing this with Athos that he found himself unable to move. Thankfully Athos didn’t seem to be having the same issue and soon slim fingers were reaching out and Aramis’ braies were also being undone. Aramis lifted himself up a little as Athos tugged down his clothes and soon they were both exposed.

“Lean forward,” Athos coached. “Come and kiss me.”

Aramis did was he was told, his body following Athos’ orders in bed just like it did on the battlefield. He leaned forward, lowering himself down a little again and closing his eyes before kissing Athos. He was so busy concentrating on the kiss that, when something touched his aching cock, it made him shudder violently. He gasped and pulled away from the kiss to tilt his head down and look. Athos had wrapped his fingers around them both, pushing their erections together. It felt incredible and Aramis couldn’t hold back, immediately thrusting his hips up and pressing himself even further into that warm fist. The action made Athos groan, so Aramis did it again. Pulling his hips back before rocking them forward. The second time they groaned in unison.

“Athos,” Aramis whimpered and held himself up with shaky arms a little more, rocking back and forth. “Feels so good.” He found himself unable to keep quiet or keep still. As his arousal, which was making his head spin, just seemed to contribute to the speed of his thrusting. The stroking fingers and Athos’ hard cock was driving him wild. His hips sped up faster and faster, pumping in a furious uncoordinated rhythm. Athos spoke no words but he did allow grunts and groans to escape his mouth. Aramis found himself being far more vocal, whimpering Athos’ name or repeating the word ‘yes’ until he felt his groin heat up and his muscles start to tense.

“Athos…Athos please,” he begged, not knowing what he was begging for but knowing that he needed something. Then there was a grunt from below and Aramis suddenly felt something warm and wet hit his stomach and it wasn’t long before he followed, crying out loudly as he came, soaking Athos’ hand and his stomach as he just exploded.

When it was all over, far too soon, Aramis collapsed down onto Athos and panted. At one point he felt Athos removehis squashed hand and soon there were fingers stroking his hair. He knew that they were sticky and sweaty but he wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against Athos in that moment and have him close. The thought of which made his stomach do flips.

Without many further words being spoken they cleaned themselves up and immediately slept in a bone-weary tangle of limbs on the small bed together until, in the morning, they went off to find d’Artagnan. Only d’Artagnan wasn’t in his room. It made Aramis worry at first but then he decide that d’Artagnan was probably just with Constance. Confronting him could wait until he was ready to be confronted.

So, finally having no duties for the day, they decided to find Porthos and partake in a bit of sword-practice. Whilst they were removing their coats and placing their pistols down on the wooden table, they were all surprised when d’Artagnan strolled into the garrison in full uniform and with no sign of his sling. Aramis heard Athos sigh when he saw the sight but d’Artagnan had quite a determined look on his face.

“I’m going to train today,” d’Artagnan announced as he stood before them all but he was really looking at Athos. “You always said that I need to learn how to use a sword in my weak hand. Well this seems like the perfect opportunity.”

“You should be resting,” Athos grumbled and turned away to removed his scarf from his neck and place it with the rest of his clothes. D’Artagnan stepped forward.

“Athos, please. Just for a little while.”

Athos didn’t react and concerned suddenly welled up inside Aramis as he remembered the evening before.

“D’Artangnan,” he said, trying to get the young man’s attention. “Did you get anyone to look at your stitches?”

D’Artagnan completely ignored him and continued to wait for Athos to respond. Aramis sighed and glanced at Porthos who was looking troubled. Aramis wanted to tell him but he would have to wait until d’Artagnan wasn’t around.

“Fine,” Athos eventually said after what seemed like a couple of very long minutes as he faffed around with something on the table. He turned and glared at d’Artagnan before pulling out his sword and walking into the centre of the court-yard. D’Artagnan looked surprised about the fact Athos had actually agreed and then wasn’t able to hide his grin as he followed Athos.

“What happened?” Porthos asked Aramis as soon as the others were out of ear-shot, ever the observant.

“D’Artagnan caught us together last night,” Aramis explained which gained him a tilt of the head and a disapproving look from this friend. “He was going to find out eventually.”

Porthos sighed and shrugged. “I suppose. So this is him being all jealous then?”

This time it was the turn of Aramis to shrug. “I have no-idea,” he admitted.

There was an unspoken agreement between Aramis and Porthos to just sit on the bench and watch the other two. Athos was clearly being gentle, using the situation as a teaching session instead of anything aggressive. He kept on telling d’Artagnan off for his feet-position and leaving too much of his body exposed. D’Artagnan just nodded and smiled through-out the entire thing. Aramis spent some time trying to figure out what must be going through d’Artagnan’s head but then decided that it was impossible to really know. At least he didn’t seem angry, or at least he didn’t seem angry with Athos.

“If this continues…” Porthos eventually said and waved briefly towards the sword-fighting lesson. “…then I can intervene and have a word with d’Artagnan, if you like?”

Aramis thought about Porthos’ offer but found himself shaking his head. “No it’s fine. If it can be solved by making sure that d’Artagnan still gets some alone time with Athos once in a while, it isn’t so troubling. It’s like when you start a relationship with someone who has a small child.”

He looked at Porthos and they both started laughing.

“Bless him,” Porthos said with a shake of his head once their laughter had died down.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I'm sorry for any mistakes, I've felt ridiculously tired all week and I can't get my brain to focus but I wanted to get this up.
> 
> There is a NAUGHTY bit in the middle, feel free to skip that part if that isn't your thing.]

“D’Artagnan, if you would perhaps look at Aramis then I might believe that you do not have issues with it. As it is, I am starting to wonder.”

“I don’t have issues with it,” d’Artagnan insisted and even glanced over at Aramis really briefly as if trying to prove his point. They were all sitting in a booth right in the corner of the tavern, away from prying ears and eyes.

Athos shook his head a little, as if not believing it. “We are here so you can ask questions.”

Aramis was on one bench sitting next to Athos. The other two were sitting opposite. Porthos had offered to come along for moral support although he had, so far, not said anything. Then again neither had Aramis. It rather felt like he was intruding on something which perhaps should have been private between Athos and d’Artagnan but Athos had a point, d’Artagnan hadn’t spoken to Aramis for the entire day which was very unusual so perhaps this needed to be done with all of them present.

“I don’t have any questions,” d’Artagnan commented, running his finger around the top of his wine goblet.

“That would surprise me,” Athos muttered, picking up his own goblet of wine and taking a sip. Aramis had noticed that Athos rarely drank these days which pleased him. The fact the man was no longer drowning his sorrows in wine meant that Aramis was obviously doing something right.

There was silence for a while before Porthos had a go.

“You and I could talk about it sometime, if you like? I know you might not want to upset these two by saying anything in front of them.”

D’Artagnan looked over at Porthos and slowly nodded.

“We will not be insulted,” Athos promised. “We are both fully aware that most of the world find it…” he paused and leaned forward to say the next word a little more quietly. “…unnatural.”

D’Artagnan opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth again. They were all patient and let the young man ponder his thoughts.

“It’s not that,” he eventually said. “Aramis seems to like women so much and he also seems to constantly drive you to the brink of madness…so it’s just a shock, that’s all. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“I still do like women,” Aramis pointed out and then regretted it quite quickly. He didn’t dare look at Athos in order to gage his reaction. However it did make d’Artagnan finally speak to him.

“But not just women?”

Aramis didn’t answer straight away, he hadn’t really had the chance to process it all himself yet. He’d just allowed himself to get whisked away by the excitement of it all, like he always did when it came to relationships.

“It seems not,” he eventually admitted, to himself as well and d’Artagnan.  

“And he still does constantly drive me to the brink of madness,” Athos pointed out which made Aramis gasp but d’Artagnan smile. Thankfully it also seemed to soften d’Artagnan up a little.

“You both mean a lot to me,” he admitted, although he was looking down at his wine as he spoke. “And if this makes you both happy, then I will try to understand and I promise to keep your secret safe.”

Aramis watched Athos sit back in his chair and his body seemed to suddenly relax. Perhaps a visible sign of how much that meant to him.

“That is all we can ask,” he said sincerely and soon the conversation was forgotten and they were back to their usual banter. Aramis suspected that d’Artagnan would collar Porthos at some point to ask all the embarrassing questions which were probably floating about in his mind but Aramis wasn’t concerned about that.

Instead, Aramis decided to flirt with the new barmaid who was very sweet but also very nervous. He thought that, perhaps, some friendly encouragement would help her and also make Athos a little jealous at the same time. Not that he was entirely sure if Athos ever got jealous but it was such things which Aramis wanted to explore.

“You’re doing a wonderful job, honestly,” Aramis assured her as she brought them over a second bottle of wine once they had finished their meals. “With a smile like yours, you will make everyone melt.”

She giggled and thanked him. Aramis winked at her which made her giggle again before she scurried away. He turned back to discover Porthos shaking his head but it wasn’t Porthos and his reaction he was interested in, it was Athos. So he turned to look at Athos but Athos was mostly ignoring it all, listening to whatever d’Artagnan was saying about farming. Aramis wasn’t remotely interested in farming himself.

As it turned out Athos did indeed get jealous and, the second they were back in Aramis’ room, he was pushed against the wall and kissed quite thoroughly. It made Aramis take a mental note to make Athos jealous more often as Athos started to undress them both, clothes flying everywhere and, this time, they remembered to lock the door.

“Would you like me to show you what I can do and she can’t?” Athos growled which made Aramis nod very enthusiastically.

Then, before he really knew what was going on, he was kneeling down on the floor and leaning over the bed. Athos was behind him rubbing up and down between Aramis’ arse cheeks with fingers covered in oil. It was driving Aramis wild. No-one had ever done it before and he hadn’t realise how sensitive he was down there. Athos was barely moving really but, each time his fingers stroked certain areas, Aramis’ entire body jerked and he groaned in pleasure.

Athos was skilled. He tried to think about how Athos knew such things about the male body but couldn’t form the right words to ask. Athos must have done it before whereas Aramis had never let a man touch him in private until Athos had come along. He felt inexperienced and vulnerable. He was surprised to find those feelings incredibly rousing.

Then one of Athos’ fingers pushed up inside him a little. The shock of it made Aramis cry out again and grip onto the bed-sheets. No-one had certainly ever done _that_ before either. Once he got used to the feeling of the intrusion he found himself wanting more. He pushed back onto Athos’ hand and Athos didn’t stop him.

“Do you like it?” Athos eventually asked and Aramis couldn’t even speak, he just nodded furiously down at the bed. He felt himself being stretched even further, another finger opening him up. He tensed at first but soon felt a warm hand rubbing at his back, soothing him gently which helped him relax and the two wet fingers started to feel wonderful. Athos slowly pushed them in and out, Aramis was overwhelmed and his eyes filled with happy tears. He loved it and he wanted more. Athos seemed to move his fingers a little inside of him and then, all of a sudden, Aramis’ entire body went into a violent spasm.

“W-what was…” he tried to ask but then his body shook again. He could hear Athos chuckle behind him. Athos was laughing and Aramis’ cock was leaking and nothing in life had ever felt so incredible. Once his body had settled Aramis looked over his shoulder at Athos and tried to beg with his eyes.

“More,” he whispered. “Please.”

Much to his surprised this seemed to make Athos freeze and then he slowly shook his head.

“I don’t think…we shouldn’t rush,” Athos said which made Aramis cry out in frustration. Shouldn’t rush?! The man was infuriating.

“I want you to,” he begged, trying to show Athos how much he wanted it. Aramis might be inexperienced but he was no fool. He knew how two men made love. He desperately wanted Athos to be inside of him. “Please.”

Athos looked so unsure that Aramis wasn’t certain he was going to get what he wanted.

“Athos, please!” he yelled again. He needed it, he wanted it. Athos wasn’t going to deny him of it.

He felt Athos’ hand move from his back around his side and soon longer fingers were curling around his cock. It made Aramis groan. His cock was aching and throbbing and the fist felt warm and tight. The two fingers inside his arse started pumping in and out faster and deeper. It wasn’t long before Aramis was completely distracted as he rocked his hips forward into the fist and then back against the fingers. Tension was building in his stomach and his fingers gripped into the blankets even harder, tugging furiously as his body started begging for release.

The heat built up in his groin until he couldn’t hold back any longer and he came with a cry. He shivered and whimpered through his messy release until it was over, then he placed his head down onto the bed as he panted.

Only the bliss of the orgasm was soon replaced by a building anger and, as soon as he could summon up the energy, he pushed himself back up onto his knees and looked at Athos behind him feeling utterly furious.

“Why didn’t you do what I asked?!” he yelled. He suddenly found himself lunging at Athos and pounding onto the man’s naked chest, not enough to hurt but enough to vent out his frustration. “Why do you want to go slow?! What are you so afraid of?! Don’t you trust me? Don’t you love me?!”

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around him and he found himself being pulled so tightly against Athos that he could no longer move, he certainly couldn’t pound the chest anymore. He wheezed and tried to calm himself down. Athos hadn’t deserved any of that, Aramis himself wasn’t even sure where it had come from. His Spanish temper did sometimes get the better of him. _No perder la calma_ , his mother would always say whenever the temper she had given him appeared. He felt soft lips pressing against his temple. No perder la calma.

“I do love you,” he heard Athos whisper into his ear but the arms wouldn’t let go. The arms didn’t let go until Athos seemed to believe that Aramis had calmed down. Aramis had but he still didn’t want the arms to disappear. Aramis remained on his knees as Athos got up off the floor and walked over to the bowl of water on the table.

“Talk to me, Athos,” Aramis pleaded. “Please.”

Athos sighed as he came back over. His own erection was already softening as he knelt down in front of Aramis again, tenderly cleaning up the sweat which covered his naked skin.

“I want to show you that I don’t just want you for…this,” Athos said as he tried to explain. “I just seem to be doing a terrible job of it.”

“You’re not doing a terrible job of anything,” Aramis responded, trying to reassure him. Athos looked so sad and Aramis didn’t want him to be sad when everything felt so wonderful. “Relationships are about sex, as well as everything else.”

Athos nodded in agreement as he continued to wipe Aramis clean, even moping his brow. “Yes, but I believe you have had too much of one and not enough of the other. I want to show you the balance between them both.”

“Athos,” Aramis sighed but he was smiling fondly. Never before had he ever had a lover so concerned about getting everything right. It was frustrating but terribly sweet all at the same time. “You need to stop thinking so much and worrying about everything,” Aramis continued, trying to reassure him. “You’re doing fine.” The look of embarrassment on Athos’ face made Aramis get a funny warm feeling in his stomach. Athos could be very adorable at times.

Aramis grabbed the cloth and tugged it out of Athos’ hand before throwing it aside. Now that he had Athos’ attention he grabbed the man by his face and held it tightly so Athos had no choice but to look at him.

“You’re just wonderful. You’re the most selfless, giving lover I have ever had. Stop worrying about how fast or slow we’re going. We should just enjoy it.”

Athos’ lip curled up into a little bit of a smile. So Aramis decided to try his luck and continue.

“Now get on the bed and let me take care of you for a change.”

\----------------------------------------------

Aramis spent the next few days living in a state of dream-like bliss. During the day he got to be a Musketeer and stand alongside the closest friends he had ever had and during the night he got to be with Athos as they both explored and discovered how to make each other happy, physically and emotionally. They both still argued once in a while but that was just part of who they were.

Everything was perfect, so perfect that Aramis kept on forgetting himself and found himself smiling at Athos constantly through-out the day and sneaking touches whenever he could. Athos kept on telling him off for it but Aramis couldn’t help it. So, when they were alone in the armoury, putting back their muskets after some shooting practice, Aramis had to touch him again. He snuck up behind Athos and wrapped his arms around Athos’ waist, holding him tightly and pressing his cheek against Athos’ shoulder.

“Aramis, get off,” Athos said but it was spoken fondly.

“Never. You must carry me home on your back, I’m not letting go.”

Athos laughed and Aramis soon discovered that he didn’t have a strong enough grip because Athos managed to twist in his arms until they were facing each other. Athos was still smiling as he looked at Aramis. That smile again, the one he gave Aramis. It made Aramis’ heart soar.

“I love you,” Aramis said, so abruptly that it hadn’t even occurred to him that he had wanted to say until it came out of his mouth. He hadn’t said the words out loud before, strangely enough Athos had, but this was the first time Aramis had said them. It made the smile disappear from Athos’ face for a moment which caused Aramis to worry that he had done something wrong. But then warm lips were pressing against his own and Aramis moaned into the kiss. He reached up and cupped Athos’ jaw, kissing him back eagerly.

When they pulled away they both panted and smiled at each other until Athos seemed to glance up to look at something over Aramis’ shoulder and his expressed changed so dramatically that Aramis felt sick. Athos removed his arms and pushed Aramis away. The shock of it made Aramis stumble and almost fall over. Yet, somehow, he managed to steady himself and he turned to see what had made Athos react in such a way. Treville was standing there, staring at the pair of them with an expression Aramis couldn’t even read. Silence hung over all three of them and Aramis felt his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

“Athos, in my office,” Treville said when he finally spoke. His voice so even and calm that it terrified Aramis even more. No, he thought and immediately moved to go with Athos but Athos pressed his hand firmly on Aramis’ chest and shook his head. Aramis stood still at the silent command and watched Athos start to walk towards the doorway where Treville had just disappeared. Why just Athos? Aramis moved to follow again but Athos stopped, turned and scowled at him firmly.

“He just asked for me, don’t make this worse,” he hissed, clearly furious at something, probably himself. So Aramis froze again and stood there as he watched Athos leave. He wanted to vomit. In fact he had to reach out for the musket stand to stop himself from falling over. His stomach did heave but nothing came out. What was Treville going to say? What would Treville do? At worst he’d have them arrested, at best Treville would tell Athos to end it. No, no he didn’t want it to end. He loved Athos, he’d finally said it out loud. He did love Athos, perhaps he always had. Aramis felt his stomach retch again but he managed to hold back what was threatening to come up.

Then he sighed and looked at the doorway. He loved Athos, he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him. He started running, racing out into the courtyard and skidding to a halt when he spotted Athos walking up the stairs behind Treville silently. His legs jerked wanting to go after them but then he remembered Athos’ words ‘don’t make it worse’. But how could it get any worse?

“Athos…” he pleaded but so silently that he knew the man wouldn’t hear. He continued to watch as Athos followed Treville along the balcony, looking sombre, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Aramis had finally decided to ignore Athos’ order and go up there to take the dressing-down with him when the door of the office slammed shut and the noise made Aramis change his mind.

“What happened?” a voice asked, the shock of it making Aramis jumped. He hadn’t realised that Porthos had come to stand beside him. Aramis turned to look and he tried to say something but all that happened was his mouth moved and nothing came out. He was shaking though and he couldn’t control that either.

“Aramis, what the hell happened?” Porthos asked again. “Take deep breaths.” A supportive hand was rubbing his arm and it did help Aramis calm down. Or at least calm down enough to remind him to breathe.

“T-Treville caught us,” he managed to eventually say but the statement made the supportive hand disappear.

“You stupid…” Porthos sounded angry but he didn’t even finish his sentence. Instead he sighed and looked up at the office himself. “I can’t believe you…” Another half-finished sentence and another sigh.

“I don’t know what to do,” Aramis admitted to his friend. Not that he had many options. Porthos looked back at him and seemed a little bit more sympathetic.

“Come on,” Porthos said and soon a strong arm was around his shoulders which guided Aramis over to the bench. Aramis found himself sitting down as Porthos told d’Artagnan to go and fetch some wine. Aramis wasn’t convinced that wine was going to solve the problem but it might help his muscles to relax. It wasn’t long before d’Artagnan returned and Aramis drank down the red liquid gratefully, not even taking a breath between gulps.

Once he was done Porthos removed the goblet from his hand and passed it back to d’Artagnan. Aramis couldn’t even bring himself to look at their expressions anymore. He didn’t want to know what they were thinking. He couldn’t carry the weight of their disappointment on top of everything else.

“He might just be telling him to be more careful,” Porthos offered after a lingering silence hung over the three of them for a while. Porthos, ever the optimist.

“I don’t think so, my friend,” Aramis said. He was trying to listen out to see if he could hear any raised voices coming from the office but he heard none. The wine had helped, a little. He had stopped shaking and perhaps a certain sense of inevitability had started to sink in. He knew exactly what Treville was saying. He was telling Athos to end it. He was speaking to Athos alone because he knew that Athos had more sense than Aramis when it came to matters of the heart. The thought made Aramis want to tear all of hair out and scream. Please, please don’t listen to him, he pleaded silently. Please, Athos, listen to your heart.

It wasn’t actually long until he heard the door re-open and they all immediately sat up. Aramis felt his body shivering again and his hands were starting to sweat as he waited in anticipation whilst listening to the footsteps above their heads. Then Athos appeared on the stairs. He looked pale and troubled and he was walking very fast.

Aramis immediately got up from the bench and started walking towards him but Athos wasn’t even looking up, his vision was focused on the ground as he began to walk right past them.

“I’ll see you all in the morning,” he said as he raced past. Aramis moved to go after him but then thought better of it. He didn’t know what to do, anger was building up inside his chest and his fists were starting to tighten. Aramis looked up at the balcony and realised that he just had to say something to Treville.

“Woah,” someone said and a strong hand was soon gripping his arm. Aramis shook it off furiously.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret,” Porthos warned but didn’t try to grab Aramis again. Aramis ignored him and stormed towards the steps. He knew that Porthos was following him and he no longer cared. He marched down the corridor and swung open the door of the office. Treville was sitting at his desk doing paperwork and he didn’t even look up when Aramis entered.

“What did you say to him?!” Aramis screamed. He felt so livid that he no longer cared about getting into trouble. He vaguely heard footsteps behind him and Porthos closing the door but he was paying Porthos no attention, he was focused at the man in front of him.

Aramis stepped forward. Treville still wasn’t even looking at him which just made his blood boil even more.

“What did you say to him?!” he yelled again. He knew Athos was never going to tell him, this was the only way he’d ever find out. This time Treville slowly looked up at the pair of them.

“Athos will speak to you when he is ready.”

Fuck that, Aramis thought and launched himself at the desk. He swung his arm and threw some of the paperwork onto the ground. Treville watched it fly off but didn’t say anything or even look surprised.

“Tell me!” Aramis cried, although it came out as a more of a desperate plea than an angry demand.

Treville sat back in his chair and stared at Aramis for a while, studying the man. Aramis found himself standing there and allowing it to happen, desperately trying to control his temper even though he wanted to shout and scream and hit the Captain. However, when Treville finally spoke, he sounded calm.

“I told him to close his eyes,” Treville began to explain. “And imagine a cell. So small that you walk three paces in any direction and find a stone wall. I told him to picture a window in the cell, so high up and insignificant that during the winter you barely see light at all and a bed so uncomfortable that, even when you do manage to sleep for an hour or two, you wake up with pains in your back and your toes bleeding from rat bites. I told him to imagine eating nothing but mouldy bread and stale water day in and day out with no-one to speak to and nothing to do apart from reading a couple of tatty books over and over. I told him to feel the chill of the cell, a chill which you have to live with every single day because you only have one set of thin clothes to wear and an itchy blanket covered in holes to keep you warm.” Aramis could imagine it. He could imagine it all. The darkness, the loneliness and the cold. But Treville hadn’t finished. “Then I told him to imagine you in that cell.”

Aramis shook his head and his eyes welled up with tears. No, how could Treville be so unkind? How could Treville put that image into Athos’ head? His bottom lip started to quiver as his chest heaved.

“I know you think I am cruel, Aramis,” Treville said, almost softly. “But I hope one day you realise that I am doing this because I am care about you both.”

“We won’t get caught,” Aramis whispered as a promise.

“You already did!” Treville suddenly yelled. Then he closed his eyes and sighed, silently calming himself down before opening them again. “You might not ever forgive me but I will not sit back and let you both be arrested.”

“I will never forgive you,” Aramis spat. Although even then he wasn’t entirely sure if he believed his own words. Because, despite his anger, despite what this meant and despite everything, he did know that Treville was just trying to protect them. “I love him,” Aramis announced as if saying that might somehow make all of the difference.

“I know,” Treville said. “Athos told me the same thing and I wish so much that we lived in a world where that was all that mattered.”

Aramis no longer had the energy to remain angry. He felt deflated. He wanted to run away and curl up somewhere dark…with Athos. He wanted Athos. He wanted to hold him and make all of the confusion and sadness that the man must be feeling go away.

“Now go home and rest. Think more on this when you have a level-head in the morning.”

Aramis snorted. He vaguely heard Treville say something to Porthos but it wasn’t until he felt Porthos pulling him out of the office that his brain started to focus again.

“Can I trust you not to go after Athos?” Porthos was asking. Aramis found his legs moving even though he wasn’t sure where he was going.

“I need to see him,” Aramis said, making no such promises about anything.

“Athos needs space,” Porthos pointed out. “Seeing you will just mess him up. Let him think tonight.”

“No, I need to see him.”

He was suddenly stopped and Porthos’ gloved hands were gripping at his face, holding him firmly so that they were looking right at each other.

“Stop. Stop and think for once in your life. Athos needs to make his own decision about what to do. Leave him be for this one night. You’ll see him in the morning.”

Aramis nodded slowly, making a promise to Porthos. Porthos let go of his face and walked Aramis to his room because, despite the silent promise, he obviously didn’t trust Aramis to keep it. Once inside the bedroom Porthos closed the door to shut out the world behind them. Aramis sank to the ground and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I feel so mean :( ]


	10. Chapter 10

Aramis barely slept. Every once in a while he rolled over to look at the window, waiting for signs of dawn. When he was greeted with nothing but depressing darkness he sighed and rolled back again. Porthos probably didn’t get a lot of sleep either judging by the constant mumbles of ‘go back to sleep, Aramis’ or ‘it’s not morning yet, Aramis’ in a half-exhausted but sympathetic manner as he lay beside him.

Aramis tried to will morning to come faster but the night just went on forever until, finally, he rolled over and saw some orange peeking in through his flimsy wooden window slats. He gasped and threw back the bed covers. The action made Porthos grunt and lift his sleepy-head from the pillow. Aramis dashed out of bed and began getting dressed, flinging on his clothes in a manner he was quite accustomed to thanks to his many illicit affairs.

“Aramis…” Porthos said softly from the bed as he watched. Aramis looked over, waiting for the rest of the sentence but it never came. Porthos just looked sad and heaved out a sigh.

“Yes?” Aramis asked as he pulled up his boots. He was in a rush but he would make time to listen to Porthos because Porthos had been a true friend.

“…I’ll wait here. So you know where I am if you need me.”

Aramis nodded. He suspected that Porthos had wanted to say more than that but then thought better of it and stopped himself. But Aramis’ own patience had run out, he had to go and find Athos. 

“Thank you,” he said as he pulled his coat on. He looked at his weapons and debated about taking them but then, deciding that it would take too much time to put them on, he just left them behind and raced out of the room. Treville would tell him off for such a decision but Treville wasn’t his favourite person currently.

Athos’ lodgings weren’t far away and it wasn’t long before Aramis was racing up the stairs, praying in his head that Athos would be there. He paused at the door and prepared himself to knock, not even having any plan in his head about what he would say to Athos once he saw him. He raised his hand to tap at the door when he realised that the door wasn’t even closed. It had an open gap so Aramis gently pushed at it and it opened with a creek and a groan. Slowly Aramis stepped inside, a sickening feeling of worry creeping up in his stomach. As soon as he saw Athos he discovered that his concerns were quite justified. The man was lying face down on the bed, his arm dangling over the edge, his hand clasping an empty bottle of wine.

“Oh, Athos,” Aramis sighed sadly and stepped inside the room. He closed the door quietly and looked around for a key. He eventually found one in the middle of the floor, obviously discarded in a drunken fashion. So Aramis used it to lock the door and then went quietly over to Athos who was snoring loudly.

Kneeling down beside the bed, Aramis watched Athos sleep. He reached out and brushed back some hair which had fallen in front of Athos’ face. The action didn’t even disturb the man who didn’t look at all peaceful despite his snores. He wore a frown in his dreams.

Leaning forward Aramis pressed his lips against Athos’ cheek and kissed him tenderly. He wanted to make all the sadness go away.

He suddenly had visions of them running away together, escaping from Paris and living somewhere no-one would know them. Perhaps out in the countryside where they wouldn’t be disturbed, just the two of them, making their money from selling goods at the farmers market. The thought made Aramis smile. Porthos and d’Artagnan could come and visit them and…and…no. Isabella was right. Contentment for Aramis would never come from such a peaceful life. Contentment came from action and adventure, he suspected that it might be the same for Athos now as well.

With a sigh Aramis got up onto his feet again and pulled his boots off. Then he carefully climbed over the bed, trying not to disturb Athos as he crawled behind him. Athos did rock and grumble but he didn’t wake up. So Aramis lay himself down gently and spooned up against the drunk man’s back. He wrapped his arm around Athos’ stomach and held him tightly.

“I love you,” he whispered into Athos’ ear and then closed his eyes to wait.

He must have dozed off because, when he heard his name, he felt groggy and confused. He sighed with happiness at first, pressing his body closer against the warm one in front of him. When he started coming round and realised that the warm body belonged to Athos he immediately let his hand slowly move from Athos’ stomach down his body. His fingers found Athos’ breeches and he began to tug at the buttons but then a hand suddenly stopped him. It gripped his own firmly and pulled his hand away. The action made Aramis wake up properly and the memory of Treville’s office flooded back to him. He felt nauseous again although his stomach did settle a little when the cold hand lifted his own to warm lips and a kiss was pressed tenderly against his fingers.

“I had to see you,” Aramis admitted, keeping his voice quiet as to not hurt Athos’ head.

“I know,” was the bleary response. Athos wasn’t pushing him away, Aramis considered that a good sign. There was silence for a while. Aramis’ heart felt at ease holding Athos. He was far too afraid to pull away just in case this was going to be the last time.

It was Athos who finally broke the peace. “Please tell me you didn’t hit the Captain,” was his breaking statement which almost made Aramis laugh and he would have done if it hadn’t been so close to the truth.

“No,” Aramis admitted. “Although that doesn’t mean that I won’t.”

Athos sighed and rolled onto his back. Aramis moved a little to give Athos more space. Athos looked ill. His skin was pale, his eyes were blood-shot and he stunk of alcohol and yet he still seemed so beautiful to Aramis.

“He is afraid for us,” Athos said, finally looking at Aramis. Aramis nodded, because he knew that was the truth. Treville wasn’t being cruel or unkind. He was being honest with them.

“I know,” Aramis said, looking down at Athos and brushing some of his hair back again. “You need a hair-cut. It keeps getting in your eyes.”

The statement made Athos sigh and look away for a moment. “Are you in the denial stage?”

“No,” Aramis pointed out with a frown. “I’m not in denial about anything. I just love you and I know exactly what I want.”

“And what is it you want, Aramis?”

“You,” Aramis admitted as he lowered his hand to stroke the skin of Athos’ chest which he could reach through the opening of his shirt. “And I don’t care if I’m risking being thrown into a prison. I can’t go back to how things were before, I know I can’t. I can’t stop the feelings I have for you now.”

That obviously wasn’t the response Athos wanted because he closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

“Why must you insist on making me the bad person?”

Aramis scowled and pulled his hand away. He found the comment unfair. “I’m not.”

Athos pushed himself up until he was sitting. Clearly the action made him feel dizzy as he paused for a while and reached up to hold his forehead before swinging his legs off the bed.

“I’m not!” Aramis said a little louder, suddenly caring a little less about Athos’ sore head. “I’m just being honest with you!”

Athos got up and stumbled over to the window. There he had a bucket on the ledge which had obviously been collecting rain water. Aramis watched as Athos picked up the heavy bucket and carried it into the middle of the room. Aramis sat up himself and observed as Athos then fell to his knees, leaned forward and dunked his head into the water. The action made Aramis gasp but he stayed where he was, watching as some of the water tipped over the side and spilled onto the wooden planks which covered the floor.

Then Aramis waited for Athos to re-emerge. He felt twitchy for a moment when Athos appeared to take his sweet time. Aramis partly wondered he’d driven the man to try and drown himself. But, just as he was about to move to save him, Athos flung his head back and threw water across his room. Then he got up and stumbled around again, grabbing a sheet and rubbing his face dry.

“How I wish life was as it is in your head, Aramis,” he began to say. “Where romance conquers all else and everything works out fine as long as you love each other. But it doesn’t. Trust me, it does not. Love doesn’t make all of the other problems go away.”

Aramis sighed and pushed himself back on the bed until he was leaning against the wall. Why did Athos think that he was some hopeless romantic fool? Perhaps he had played the part too well, even though deep down Aramis was well aware that love hardly ever seemed to conquer all.

“I know that. So you’re making the decision for the both of us?” Aramis asked, trying to keep calm regardless of the fact he had all sorts of strong emotions bubbling up inside his chest which were screaming to get out. “I don’t get a say in any of this? I cannot make my own decision about my own life?”

“The problem is, Aramis,” Athos said as he began to stretch his arms out. “You are notoriously bad at making decisions.”

Aramis opened his mouth to speak but then paused and tried to think of a time when he had actually made a good decision which didn’t get either himself or someone else into trouble. Upon discovering that he was struggling to come up with a single example, he shut his mouth again. Athos was looking at him, now out of something which resembled pity. Water was dripping from his hair onto his shirt and face, but he was ignoring it.

“If you were arrested, I would never forgive myself.”

Typical, Aramis thought. If _you_ were arrested. Not us, you. As if Athos spending the rest of his life in a tiny prison cell meant nothing, it was the thought of that happening to Aramis which terrified him. Treville had known exactly what to say, the sly bastard.

Aramis was suddenly unable to meet Athos’ gaze. He lowered his head and wasn’t able to keep those emotions down any longer. His eyes filled with tears. Athos wanted to end it. It felt like he was trying to hold back the inevitable. What was the point anymore?

“Aramis…” he heard Athos say but nothing else. It didn’t surprise him that Athos didn’t know how to comfort a crying man. Aramis placed his hands over his face and tried to stop the tears. He didn’t even want to cry in front of Athos. He felt the bed move and arms were reaching out for him. He tried to shove them away but the arms persisted and, after a bit of a half-hearted fight, suddenly he was being held tightly.

“After all those things you said to me,” he heard himself whisper into his own hands. “You courted me, made me fall in love with you and now you’re ending it yet again, after all of those things you said to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Athos whispered as he held on so tightly that Aramis could barely breathe. Although perhaps that was the sobbing. Then he told himself off silently in his head. Hearing his father’s own voice telling him that boys should not cry. Crying was for women, men must stay strong. Aramis calmed himself down and opened his eyes again. Then he moved forward and quite forcefully pushed Athos away as he got off the bed. His legs wobbled but he managed to steady them enough to slip his feet into his boots and pull them up.

“I have yet to properly make a final decision,” he heard Athos say but he didn’t look up at him until his boots were firmly on his feet.

“Yes you have,” Aramis said before turning and walking out of the room. Yet once outside he paused, just long enough to hear a frustrated cry and a loud thud coming from inside the room. It made Aramis panic and turn around for a moment but then he stopped himself. Athos had made the decision for the pair of them. Now Athos had to learn to deal with it.

Aramis went back to his room because Porthos would be there and he didn’t want to be alone. What he wasn’t expecting was to find d’Artagnan in the room also and Porthos racing around getting dressed.

“What…” Aramis began as he encountered the scene. He wasn’t sure what question to ask so his sentence stopped there.

“Treville’s in trouble,” Porthos explained hurriedly as he wrapped his sword belt around his waist. “Quick!”

Aramis immediately went into solider mode and grabbed his weapons, flinging them on and then raced out with the other two and ran towards the garrison.

“Where’s Athos?” d’Artganan yelled as they sprinted.

“In his room,” Aramis explained.

“I’ll get him, you two get the horses!” d’Artagnan disappeared off and Aramis did as the lad had requested.

“What’s going on?” Aramis asked Porthos as they entered the courtyard, other musketeers were also scrambling to action.

“I don’t know all the details I just know that there has been an attack on some of the King’s council members and Treville’s right in the middle of it.”

\-----------------------------

“Captain, you must keep still,” Aramis insisted. The blood on his hands was making his fingers slip and he had to concentrate extra hard to keep a firm grip on the needle as it pierced the skin. Treville hissed for a moment but then moved again, to try and get a better look at the battle going on over Aramis’ shoulder.

“Captain!” Aramis said firmly, the movement caused the needle to piece the skin deeper than he would have liked. He heard Treville sigh and then settle back down. Once Aramis felt the leg muscles relax once more, he continued to stitch, pulling the needle out as quickly as he could whilst doing a good job of it.

“You’ll be even less use if you die of blood loss, now let me do my work.”

“Yes, sorry,” Treville muttered and continued to stay still as swords clashed somewhere behind them. Aramis was ignoring it all, he knew that the rest of his regiment had it in hand. He needed to tend to the captain despite still being angry at the man. Blood was continuing to pour out and Aramis had to pause momentarily to wipe his hands on his breeches, trying to get some of it off. Then he wiped his brow which was sweating, no doubt smearing blood all over that as well. He took a deep breath, not taking his eyes off the messy axe wound in Treville’s leg.

“You’re doing a fine job,” Treville encouraged. The sound of the battle was starting to quieten down as it moved further away. “But hurry up.”

Aramis did look up this time and glared at the captain.

“Do you want it done fast or done well?” Aramis asked and didn’t wait for an answer, he turned his attention back to his stitching. Treville stayed quiet the rest of the time and, once Aramis had finished, he grabbed a bandage and carefully placed it on the wound before wrapping Treville’s leg up.

“As soon as you get back, you must see the physician,” Aramis insisted.

Treville reached out and gave Aramis’ shoulder a squeeze. “I will,” he promised. “Aramis…thank you. Now help me get up.”

Aramis moved to his side so that Treville could wrap his arm around his shoulders and then they both got to their feet. Or at least Treville got to one of his, the other was too painful to put down. Aramis grabbed his wrist and held on as they emerged from safety and went out to see what was happening. The Musketeers had driven the attackers back but fighting was still going on somewhere down the streets in the distance.

“Captain, you’re too injured. We must get you back.”

Aramis tried to drag Treville away but the captain didn’t seem keen to co-operate. Aramis was starting to realise that Treville was as infuriating as Athos at times.

“Captain!” He snapped. “If I was injured you’d be telling me the same thing!”

Suddenly Treville seemed to be paying attention again and he turned to look at Aramis as best he could. “Yes, I would. You’re right. Please take me away. I am but a burden in this state.”

So Aramis carried him over to where some of the council members were cowering, being ushered into carriages by some musketeers and taken to safety. Aramis settled Treville down just as d’Artagnan appeared.

“Most have been killed or arrested,” he reported. “A couple may have escaped.” Treville nodded. He looked pale but he was still in charge.

“If there are enough men go after them, but getting the council members out of here is our priority.”

D’Artagnan nodded and then looked at Aramis.

“Where’s Athos?” he asked. The question made Aramis freeze.

“Not here. I thought he was with you?”

D’Artagnan looked confused for a moment and then panicked. He turned and ran off. Aramis was about to go after him but then stopped to look at Treville.

“Go,” Treville said firmly. “Go!”

Aramis raced off towards the streets where the fighting had taken place. Every single body he came across made his heart skip a beat as he went over to check who it was. None of them were Athos. He did find one man still alive, one of the attackers, he called another Musketeer over and told him to carry the injured man back to the others so he could receive medical attention. Then Aramis continued his search. He eventually came across Porthos who was looking as perplexed as he was.

“Where is he?” Porthos asked and Aramis shrugged. Please no, he said inside his head to God as he glanced up at the heavens. Not now, not like this. He quickly turned his attention back from God to searching the streets trusting that God was there helping him look. Athos must have gone after some of the men who had tried to escape. Aramis was looking in doorways and down back-alleys. Eventually he heard a voice, d’Artagnan was yelling. Aramis ran towards the sound and found d’Artagnan standing on the steps to a church. Athos was sitting down on the steps and a priest was trying to tend to him, Athos did not seem pleased with the attention.

“He’s fine,” d’Artagnan informed Aramis as he approached, the relief clear in his voice and on his face.

“What did you do?” Aramis asked, as he looked from the priest to Athos who was still trying to brush the priest’s concerned hands away. Aramis knelt down on the steps and got closer. His fist was bandaged up and he had blood running down the side of his head.

“Someone threw a barrel at me,” he explained in an emotionless way. The priest eventually gave up trying to tend to the head wound and stood up.

“We’ll take care of him,” Aramis promised the man who huffed and walked away. “You’re hurt,” Aramis said and tried to tug at Athos’ arm to have a look at his injured hand. However Athos seemed distracted.

“As are you,” he said, studying the blood all over Aramis’ arms and forehead. Aramis shook his head quickly.

“None of it is mine. I had to stitch the Captain up. Someone put an axe in his leg.”

He stared down at Athos’ hand but Athos pulled his arm away.

“I did that earlier,” he explained quietly. “It is my head which connected with the barrel.”

The cry and the thud. Aramis sighed. Athos had obviously punched a wall. Silly, silly man. At least it wasn’t his fighting hand. Even in his anger he had been thinking. Aramis reached up and brushed back some of Athos’ hair to examine the head wound instead. Unlike with the priest, Athos let Aramis examine him.

“It is minor,” Aramis informed him once he had found the cut. “You may not even need stitches. These things just like to bleed and look dramatic, as you know.”

Athos nodded and made a move to get up. Aramis stood close just in case he wobbled but Athos seemed steady on his feet.

“They're taking the council members to the palace,” Aramis informed him and saw Athos looking at something, so he turned to discover Porthos coming over with a smile on his face.

“We should all get back.”

Athos eventually nodded and they headed back to the garrison once they knew that the council members were safe. Treville had to come back in a carriage due to his leg wound. Once they were back in the garrison he was placed down onto a bench and someone ran off to get the physician. Then, just as Aramis was guiding his horse back to the stables, he heard Treville call Athos over. He turned to watch Athos going over to him. Treville grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him close, whispering something into his ear. Aramis wished that he could hear although he half-suspected that he probably didn’t want to. He sighed as he guided his horse away.

Inside the stable he lingered, giving his horse some attention for a while before he heard his name. He turned to see Athos walk across.

“After I have seen the physician I am going to the bathing room. You could do with washing the Captain’s blood off your skin, so I will see you there?”

Aramis stood there for a while, a little confused.

He was covered in blood certainly, but why would Athos want to invite him to the bathing room? Still it wasn’t an offer he was going to turn down because he was curious more than anything. So he nodded, despite not being entirely sure if it had been a question or an order.

“I’ll go and prepare the water,” he said which made Athos nod back before he left.

Troubled that it was just going to lead to more talking about things Aramis didn’t want to talk about, he distracted himself by assisting one of the garrison workers with filling up two of the tin bath-tubs.

Once steam was rolling around the room and the tubs were full, the young lad bowed and left Aramis alone. Aramis began to undress. He did hate being covered in dried blood and desperately wanted to get it off. He was down to nothing but his bries when he was suddenly twisted around and firm lips were planted on his own. He gasped in shock but then, knowing automatically who it was, he closed his eyes and moaned against the lips. Firm hands were on his shoulders holding on tightly as a tongue intruded into his mouth and he let it because he wanted it, he needed it. He pushed his own tongue against it and moved his lips desperately, kissing the life out of Athos until Athos eventually pulled away and they both stood there, panting.

“What are you…” Aramis asked and watched as Athos looked over his own shoulder and then walked away to check the door, wiggling on the handle to make sure that it was locked.

“You probably should have checked that first,” Aramis teased despite his bewildered state.

“I locked it,” Athos huffed. “I’m just being extra cautious.”

“Extra…” Aramis was going to repeat the words but they seemed to get stuck in his mouth. What was going on? Athos turned back and started undressing himself. Aramis just stood there and watched. And, yet, instead of feeling happy about the sudden changed of circumstance he found himself feeling annoyed instead.

“You can’t just change your mind every five minutes, Athos. This isn’t fair.”

Athos looked at him just before pulling his shirt over his head. “I know.”

Once Athos was also just down to his bries he came back over to Aramis who was still standing there. He took Aramis by the hand and pulled him over to one of the bathtubs. There he pushed down his own bries and stepped out of them, before tugging Aramis’ down as well. Aramis stepped out of his own and, when Athos got into the bathtub, he found himself being pulled in with him. He sunk into the hot water between Athos’ legs and sighed with delight as Athos pulled him back to lean against his chest. Aramis did so, resting the back of his head against Athos’ shoulder. Athos’ fingers slowly drew something on his chest which made his skin tingle.

“Did Treville say something to you?” Aramis asked, still entirely baffled by the sudden change in Athos.

“I think the barrel knocked some sense into me.”

“Did it? Because it seems like you have lost your senses. You were so adamant before.”

Athos went quiet for a while and Aramis didn’t push him. He let the hot water soften his skin, some of the blood already coming off.

“I cannot give you what I think you deserve,” Athos began after a while. “Because we are both men and, therefore, we must carry out our relationship in private and always be cautious of our actions. However, if you believe that is enough then I am open to the idea of continuing.”

“Yes!” Aramis said and pushed himself forward for a moment to turn back and look at Athos. “Yes! That’s all I want. I want you. Even if we do have to keep our hands off each other unless we are behind a locked door. Even if I cannot see you every night because we don’t want to draw suspicion. Whatever you can give me, it will be enough.”

Athos didn’t look entirely persuaded. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Aramis said again but this time with a smile. “What else can I say to convince you that I’m being honest? I would rather all of that than nothing at all.”

Athos sighed then reached out and started rubbing at the blood on Aramis’ arm. “And you will be able to behave when we are not in private?”

“Excuse me, who started the kiss in the armoury?”

Athos thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Point accepted.”

“I love you,” Aramis announced, just to make it very clear. The comment caused the side of Athos’ lip to curl up.

“And I love you,” he responded. Aramis leaned forward and kissed him gently, smiling against the warm lips in front of him. When he pulled away there was something he was still curious about. What _had_ Treville said to Athos?

 Aramis looked down and started rubbing the blood off his arms. Athos reached out and rubbed water over his forehead to assist.

“What did the Captain say to you?” Aramis asked. Hoping it was the right moment and Athos would be honest with him.

“He said…” Athos began and then paused. Aramis wondered if he was ever going to find out. But, eventually, Athos continued. “…that perhaps he was now the one who was more level-headed and that men like us shouldn’t turn down happiness when it is right in front of our eyes. But, if we get caught again, he’d kill us long before they lock us up.”

Aramis chuckled. “I think that was the blood loss talking. He will change his mind once he feels better.”

“Perhaps,” Athos said with a small smile. “But it helped me make my decision because he is right. You are the first person since…well…you bring me much joy. And I so desperately want to show you how special I think you are but who says I cannot do that in secret? You and I are both good at keeping secrets. This is just another to add to our list. But this one, I hope, will make us _both_ very happy.”

“Oh, Athos,” Aramis teased with a smile and reached out to stroke the side of Athos’ face. “You can be quite the romantic when you try.”

The smile on Athos’ face suddenly disappeared. “Just don’t make me to write another bloody letter,” he grumbled which made Aramis laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin


End file.
